


inseverable

by babyki



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:18:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17893937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyki/pseuds/babyki
Summary: Hoseok knows now that it's true, that destiny really does work in mysterious ways.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this story contains mature content that may be graphic and upsetting for some readers. proceed at your own discretion.

It had all happened so quickly. 

In less than the time that it took for Hoseok to blink, or to take a breath, it was already over. It’s the one thing that Hoseok could never have been prepared for, how _quickly_ it happened, how it's left him feeling so hopeless, powerless. He’s never felt anything quite like it, this point that he’s reached, where he finally understands that there is nothing, absolutely _nothing_ that he can do now, that his fate is sealed and all that’s left is for him to close his eyes and wait for it all to play out to its natural end. 

And now, Hoseok is being carried away, away and off of the battlefield by two of his comrades, the battle still raging all around them as if nothing had happened, Hoseok just one of many, just one tiny, insignificant piece of something much larger than himself. Of course, he had always been aware of his place in the grander picture, but he can’t say he’s ever quite felt it, ever quite truly understood it more than at this moment, and it’s a sobering thought, to be able to admit to yourself that you are almost nothing, that your life is... _was_ only valuable because you were expendable. 

But even so, his fellow warriors courageously fight through the chaos to rush Hoseok towards one of the medical tents far at the edge of the battlefield, and Hoseok can’t help but to pity them, because he knows that it’s no use, he knows that their efforts are a waste. He knows that he’s dying. 

His breastplate armor is cracked, split apart by the fast, hard strike of an enemy soldier’s katana, and his chest and stomach are slashed open, diagonally from his right shoulder all the way down to his left hip. And it’s a deep, deep wound, clean and efficient and lethal; it’s a wonder he wasn’t killed instantly. 

Hoseok can’t feel much, his body already going into shock, but he can feel his own blood, thick and hot and wet and sticky, gushing down his stomach and dripping down his arms from the open wound, staining the fabric of his torn clothing dark red as his vision dips in and out of focus, the pain dull and pulsing, rolling through him in waves as his chest tightens and his breath goes shallow and weak. It’s agony, yes, but it’s almost as if there’s a layer between him and his body that’s keeping him from feeling the full effects, the level of pain he should really be feeling, and instead, he feels like he’s floating just the slightest bit out of himself, like his soul is only hanging on by a thread and is already watching the scene from some other plane of existence, from the next life, or from the dark oblivion awaiting him, perhaps. 

He’s dying, he’s bleeding out. He’ll be dead in minutes, surely. He knows this, and yet, he can’t help but to feel absolutely calm, peaceful, even. Because it’s alright, it really is. He’s ready for this. As a warrior, he lives and dies by his code, by the oath he swore when he picked up the sword and became a samurai. And he would be honored, _will_ be honored to die by it, like this, gloriously in battle. He can’t say he hadn’t expected to die this way, either, and he can’t say he’s not just the slightest bit relieved that his long, hard fight is nearly over. He’s had a rough life, and some part of him has always just been waiting, has always just wanted it to be over already. 

The rain is beating down heavily from a black and stormy sky, caking the vast battlefield in layers of mud and grime as the two opposing armies battle to the death, each drop, each _bucket_ , it feels like, slick and warm on Hoseok’s hot, clammy skin, even as it starts to go numb and he starts to shiver and sweat simultaneously. The wind fights against them without mercy, and the _noise_ of it all, the deafening cacophony of battle, of swords clashing and screams of anguish and lifeless bodies hitting the ground, is beginning to fade, beginning to blend together into one low, ringing hum that only Hoseok can hear inside of his own head. 

But as Hoseok quickly begins to lose his other senses, his sense of smell still works perfectly, and each shallow breath he takes gives him a solid lungful of blood and sweat, mixed together with the sharp sting of metal and the soaked grass and the stench of death in the air. And he can taste it all thick on his tongue, too, though it’s overshadowed by the bile building at the back of his throat and the blood dripping past his lips and down his chin as he chokes on it and struggles to breathe, as his body struggles so desperately to keep him alive. 

And all Hoseok can think about now is his mother, back home in their quiet little village. He hasn’t seen her in years, since he left home to begin his training to become a warrior. She’ll be devastated when she gets the news in a few weeks, but Hoseok hopes that she’ll be proud, too. But the truth is, he can hope all he wants, but he doesn’t even know if she’s still alive, can’t know for sure that their village hasn’t already been raided and razed to the ground, hasn’t been just another casualty caught up in the middle of all of the violence. 

Hoseok can barely process what’s happening as his comrades finally make it to one of the large medical tents on the far outskirts of the fighting, quite a ways back into the forest, the battle now just a low, ominous rumbling in the distance, like thunder from some faraway typhoon, and a muffled hush settles over the air as they pass through the opening canvas flaps and make their way inside, the rain and the muck and the blood clinging thickly to their skin and their clothes, refusing to let go even when they’ve finally reached their supposed safety. 

It’s hot and cramped and eerily quiet, an entirely different kind of battlefield, and there are wounded soldiers everywhere lying on shabby beds, moaning and crying in pain as medics scurry around with limited resources and equipment to treat them, to either save their lives or to provide as much comfort as they possibly can in the dying’s final moments. Hoseok doesn’t have much time to take it all in, though, as he’s hurriedly laid down onto an empty bed, the rough fabric beneath him quickly soaked in his blood as one of the medics rushes over with a cart of bandages and supplies. 

Hoseok knows he won’t be able to keep his eyes open for much longer as his eyelids grow impossibly heavy and his body too weak to even stay conscious. His vision is fading in from around the edges, like the world is closing in around him, suffocating him, and he blinks slowly, weakly, his head pounding hard, his mouth and throat dry like he’s swallowed a mouthful of chalk, each breath coming out in a quiet wheeze wet with blood. But at least the pain is gone, now, and all he can feel is the life leaving his body as he inches closer and closer to death. 

And the very last thing that he sees before succumbing to the darkness is the face of a beautiful boy hovering over him, and the last thing that he thinks is that it’s the face of a heavenly spirit, an otherworldly being that only he can see now that he’s on the edge of the end of it all, a companion ready to guide him to the afterlife bathed in a soft, golden glow. 

\---------- 

Hoseok awakens some time later, not all at once, but little by little, as if he’s wading neck-deep through dark and muddy waters to a distant shore, and he’s not sure if it’s been hours or days, but the first thing that he realizes is that it’s the middle of the night. 

It’s dark and humid, the air sticky with moisture leftover from the storm, and the tent is only very dimly lit from a few well-placed candles. The rain and wind have ceased outside, as has the battle itself, and the medical tent is even quieter than it was before as the occupants attempt to sleep. There seem to be only a handful of medics remaining from the dozens before, stationed overnight to care for the patients until morning comes, and their exhaustion is palpable in the air, tasting like some combination of heavy relief and resignation to the inevitable. 

Hoseok blinks once, twice, slowly, carefully, and the next thing that he realizes is that he’s not dead after all. He’s alive. 

Somehow, he’s alive. 

His lips are chapped and bloody and pale as he takes in a few slow, deep breathes, and he attempts to sit up, but immediately winces as pain crackles through his body like a thousand needles at even his smallest movements. He lies back and goes still, then, closing his eyes as the sharp agony subsides, and he tries to take in his surroundings and the current situation without moving at all, moaning quietly as he looks straight up at the ceiling of the tent and relies on his other senses for information. 

He can feel that he’s lying on his back, of course, but it’s on a different bed than he remembers nearly dying on. This bed is noticeably bigger, softer, and he’s lying on clean sheets and covered with a thin blanket full of holes. All of his stained and dirty clothing and armor have been removed, replaced only with clean gray pants and thick white bandages wrapped tightly around his bare chest and torso, from just beneath his collarbone all the way down past his navel. The bandages will need to be changed soon; he can feel the inner layers starting to grow wet with the blood still slowly dribbling out from his wound, and he can smell the faint but sharp aroma of the alcohol that had been used to clean it mixing with the fresh blood, and it seems so quiet now, that it’s almost like he can hear the chemical reaction taking place, almost like he can hear his body slowly piecing itself back together. 

“Welcome back,” says a quiet voice suddenly, breaking the silence and giving Hoseok’s heart a tiny jolt. 

Hoseok instinctively turns his head and body towards the voice, but immediately regrets it as stabbing pain shoots up his spine and up the wound across his torso and chest, flickering out to what feels like every nerve that he has, his eyes squeezing shut in agony as his whole body screams in protest like he’s being ripped in half. He grits his teeth hard, groaning as he lies back down on the bed carefully, breathing slow and heavy and loud as the pain subsides like some wild beast retreating back to its cave. 

“Shit, I’m sorry about that,” the voice says quickly, and even with his eyes squeezed shut and his heart pounding loud in his ears, Hoseok can hear the person rushing to his side, frantic. It’s a medic, presumably the one in charge of his care. “I should have warned you not to move.” 

Hoseok takes another deep breath, opening his eyes wearily and staring up at the ceiling again. His vision is much clearer than before, almost normal, and he can hear the medic moving a cart of supplies closer to his bed, the old wheels squeaking as they struggle to roll over the bottom tarp of the tent. Hoseok doesn’t move his head, but he feels the presence of the medic as he approaches him and his heart rate immediately picks up as he stares at the fabric of the tent ceiling, soaked through and still damp from the rain. As the medic hovers over him, Hoseok smells the faintest hint of soap, but not the medicinal kind that the medics use, nor the rough, abrasive kind given to the soldiers. No, this medic smells soft and flowery, conjuring up images of the cherry blossom trees that Hoseok used to see surrounding the houses of the very wealthy who lived on the edge of his humble village. 

Hoseok closes his eyes again and bites down into his lower lip in anticipation of pain as the medic starts to touch him with small, soft hands and carefully maneuvers his body, gently guiding him to sit up against the thin, wiry headboard of the bed, propping him up with a few pillows behind him so that he can sit comfortably. The medic is cautious the entire time and the pain is minimal, and as Hoseok leans back to sit up against the stack of pillows, the bed creaks loudly, and the thin blanket covering his body slides down to pool in his lap, and when he opens his eyes again, blinking his vision back into focus, he finally gets a good look at the person who saved his life. 

It’s the beautiful boy from before, the one with the heavenly face that Hoseok had seen in what he had thought were his final moments and had mistaken for an ethereal being, and Hoseok’s breath catches in his chest as their eyes meet and they look at each other for the first time, a very particular feeling taking hold of Hoseok’s heart. 

The boy is quite small and quite young, close to Hoseok’s own age and probably a few years younger, probably much too young to be a medic, just as Hoseok himself is probably much too young to be dying on the battlefield. The boy has full, round cheeks and soft, delicate facial features, with plump, pink lips and deep, beautiful eyes framed by long, dark eyelashes. He reminds Hoseok of an adorable field mouse, innocent and charming, and he has a general aura of gentleness surrounding him, something intangible but undeniable that makes Hoseok feel like everything will be okay, even if he almost just died and may be in no condition to fight, or to do much of anything ever again. 

There’s also something strange about this boy, Hoseok thinks, something _off_ , but not in a bad way, not at all. If he could put it into words, it’s almost like the boy doesn’t seem to belong here, in the midst of battle, caught up in all of this violence and death. No, he seems like he belongs somewhere else, somewhere quiet and peaceful and beautiful, seems like he should be hidden away and protected from the cruelty and darkness of the world. 

He seems much too special. Yes, that’s what it is. In Hoseok’s world of dirt and grime and thousands of faceless, nameless soldiers, this boy seems different from everyone else around them, different and _special_. He seems like a treasure, like a sparkling gemstone dug out of some dark, dreary cave. 

And Hoseok can’t help but to stare for several long, silent moments at this breathtaking boy, his mind going blank, any words he might think to say dying in his throat. The boy just looks back at him, calm and expectant, obviously waiting for Hoseok to say something, and at Hoseok’s continued silence, the corner of the boy’s mouth begins to twitch slightly, curving in amusement at Hoseok’s stunned stupor. 

“How are you feeling?” the boy asks as he sits down in the chair beside Hoseok’s bed, only breaking eye contact for a moment before looking back up and into Hoseok’s eyes, and the twitch of his pretty mouth turns into a full smirk as Hoseok’s lips part but no sound comes out, as Hoseok continues to regard the beautiful boy with awe and wide eyes. The boy seems to already know exactly what Hoseok is thinking and feeling, and for Hoseok, this is a new experience indeed. 

The thing is, Hoseok is not usually one to be charmed by another into silence like this. In fact, it’s always been quite the other way around. Hoseok knows very well that he’s an attractive man, with his handsome face and his well-built, muscular body and his warrior’s strength and skill. He may be low-born and a bit rough around the edges, poor and unpolished with no future prospects other than dying an early and violent death, but he was always popular with the girls back in his village anyway, and though he was never the least bit interested in pursuing any of them in return, he’d play along for the fun of it all, for the thrill of being able to drive another person wild with a well-timed glance or an “accidental” touch or a flirtatious smile. 

But now, faced with this magnificent, bewitching boy and his effortless, delicate beauty, Hoseok can’t seem to remember how to even speak, let alone work his usual charm. Instead, he blinks several times in a row and takes a deep, deep breath, his heart pounding hard in his chest and soft color spreading over his pale cheeks as he takes way too long to speak up but thankfully manages to string together a coherent sentence once he does. 

“You saved my life,” Hoseok says, breathes out, finally, blinking again and swallowing hard as the boy looks at him with the low candlelight sparkling like stars in his eyes, and Hoseok wonders how someone so beautiful can possibly be real, wonders if the boy in front of him is not truly a heavenly spirit after all, and Hoseok is really stuck in some place between life and death, lingering still attached to the Earth but given a single glimpse of the beauty on the other side. 

“Just doing my job,” the boy replies, smiling softly. “I think it’s probably time to change those bandages, yes?” 

Hoseok nods very slowly, lips parted and eyes still fixed on the boy’s face, and at that, the boy stands up from his chair and leans over the bed, leans over Hoseok’s body and hovers just above him to remove his bandages. And the warmth of the boy’s soft, pretty, petite little body briefly pressed against his own, the gentleness of the boy’s hands on Hoseok’s bare skin as he carefully unwinds and unsticks the bandages, has Hoseok’s eyes fluttering and his chest filling with what feels like a million butterflies trapped inside. 

Up close like this, Hoseok can see now just how tiny and delicate this boy really is, and he can’t help but to think of how perfect he looks up against Hoseok’s much larger, muscular frame. Hoseok even feels the brief, wild urge to pull the boy right into his embrace, to turn the tables and leave _him_ the one flustered and speechless, and he’s stopped only by the thought of how much it would hurt his broken body to move so much so quickly. Even so, Hoseok thinks that the boy would probably look even more beautiful with eyes wide and lips parted in surprise and deep pink splashed across his angelic little face. 

But before Hoseok can actually do anything, before he can even take another breath, his chest and torso are suddenly bare and the boy is gone, moving away from him, moving across the room with the soiled bandages crumpled in his hands, stained with dark color resembling rust from Hoseok’s dried blood. Hoseok watches, the hot air prickling at his exposed wound, as the boy deposits the soiled bandages into a basket and begins to gather clean replacements, his back turned to Hoseok as he works. 

“You’re beautiful,” Hoseok blurts out. 

The boy doesn’t turn around, but he pauses briefly, going still where he’s standing for a moment before continuing to gather materials. “You’re not bad yourself,” the boy says, finally, and Hoseok grins to himself, because he knows that the boy is blushing now, it’s like he can _hear_ it. 

“And I saw _everything_ , you know,” the boy goes on, continuing to rummage through supplies, and Hoseok suspects that he’s just looking for something to do with his hands, considering the fact that he’s picked up and put down the same bottle three times in the past ten seconds. And at that, Hoseok lets out a chuckle, not at all as embarrassed as he probably should be, both because, frankly, Hoseok’s got an impressive package, and because he just can’t believe this boy’s simultaneous sharpness and innocence. It all seems so out of place here, and yet, it only makes him more attractive, more _fascinating_. 

There’s a comfortable silence between them that follows for a few minutes as the boy goes over to the other side of the tent to retrieve something, and Hoseok is beginning to feel much calmer despite his circumstances, his confidence starting to creep through as his attraction to this beautiful, alluring boy grows stronger with each passing moment. And Hoseok just can’t take his eyes off of him, just can’t stop watching everything that the boy does as he prepares the new bandages, Hoseok noting how even the boy’s small hands and the way that he walks are both exceptionally beautiful. 

It’s subtle, almost imperceptible at first, but this boy has a very specific, very polished kind of grace, one that had to have been learned, and it’s at that moment, as he watches the boy unwind fresh bandages with careful hands like he’s spinning silk, that Hoseok realizes why exactly it is that this boy seems so different and so special from everyone else around him. This boy didn’t come from some poor, run-down village like Hoseok did, like the majority of the warriors and medics did. No, this boy came from wealth, from prestige, was taught to be both skillful and elegant at everything he does, and it’s completely obvious now that he thinks about it. 

Upon this realization, Hoseok continues to watch the boy curiously, paying very close attention to everything about him, how he moves, how he breathes, the soft trill of his voice as he hums a sweet melody to himself, the careful concentration in his eyes as he goes through the motions of his medical training step by step by step, and Hoseok wonders how someone like this could have ended up here, drowning in blood and grime and death. 

“You know,” Hoseok starts as the boy finally returns to him with fresh bandages, water, and cleaning alcohol in hand, placing everything onto the medical cart by Hoseok’s bed, “you were the last thing I saw.” 

“Excuse me?” the boy asks, and Hoseok is thrilled to see a faint blush blossom across the boy’s cheeks, pink and soft like flower petals. Beautiful. 

“I thought I was already dead,” Hoseok continues. “I thought you were a beautiful spirit come to fetch me from this world and guide me into the next.” 

The boy’s blush grows noticeably darker, pinker, and his eyes widen for just a split second as he fully takes in Hoseok’s words. But he doesn’t respond, just laughs and shakes his head incredulously, his eyes crinkling into adorable, heart-melting crescents, flustered at Hoseok’s blatant flirting, and Hoseok hums deep in his throat in satisfaction, watching the boy with a half-lidded gaze as he leans once again over Hoseok’s body and begins to dab at Hoseok’s wound with a white cloth soaked in the alcohol, the boy smiling a soft, beautiful smile and continuing to let out light, breathy little laughs as he works. 

The wound had been carefully stitched closed while Hoseok was unconscious and is still bleeding slightly even through the stitches, but much slower than before, and the threat of imminent death seems to have passed, at least for the time being. The alcohol stings a bit at certain spots as the boy skillfully cleans the wound, and Hoseok winces, the medic’s eyes flickering up momentarily to meet Hoseok’s with concern and then back down to rake over Hoseok’s body, and the pain is forgotten somewhat as Hoseok notices with great interest and satisfaction that the boy appears to be examining Hoseok’s muscular chest and toned abs well beyond the scope of his medical duties. 

“You’re going to be here for a while,” the boy finally says as he begins wrapping the fresh bandages around Hoseok’s torso, gently maneuvering Hoseok’s arms and body again, and Hoseok helps him out as much as he possibly can without causing himself too much pain, a perfect and helpful patient. As he finishes, the boy leans in particularly close, nearly pressed flush against Hoseok’s chest as he ties off the bandages on Hoseok’s back, and the boy’s eyes meet Hoseok’s once more as their faces hover just inches apart, and again, Hoseok is all too aware of how close they are, and of how pink and full the boy’s pretty lips are. There’s a long beat of silence as they look into each other’s eyes, locked in something private and profound between them, before the boy speaks again, and Hoseok can just barely feel the tickle of his soft voice on his own lips. 

“You’re really a brave warrior, aren’t you?” the boy asks, smiling gently as he leans back and away from Hoseok, and truth be told, Hoseok misses him already. They haven’t yet broken eye contact and Hoseok drinks in every last detail of the boy’s deep, dark eyes shining with brilliant flecks of gold in the low candlelight. 

“And you’re really a beauty,” Hoseok murmurs. 

The beautiful boy laughs softly once more, the gentle sound warming Hoseok’s heart, and more than anything else right now, Hoseok wants to know his name, his name and his story. Hoseok wants to know more about the one he’ll be thinking about as he drifts off to sleep from now on, wants to know more about the one he’ll surely be seeing as the lovely companion to his most beautiful dreams. 

But they don’t get the chance to speak much after that, the medic rushed away shortly after tying off Hoseok’s bandages to treat one of the other patients, and Hoseok stays sitting up for a moment, watching the boy fondly as he treats the other soldier, the boy’s presence still lingering like a cloud of sweet perfume, before lying back carefully in his bed, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as he suddenly feels the full weight of his exhaustion pressing in on him from all sides at once. It was easy to forget why he was here, was easy to forget that he very nearly died when the beautiful boy was taking care of him, but now that he’s alone, it feels like it’ll crush him to dust. 

Even so, Hoseok lies back and thinks only of his new infatuation currently hard at work on the other side of the tent, and he manages to drift off just as the sun rises and casts a bright halo of light, a shining glimmer of hope on a dark and desolate world. 

\---------- 

The next day, Hoseok finally learns the boy’s name and just a little piece of his story. 

Hoseok wakes in what he guesses to be sometime in the early afternoon, and the medical tent is bustling with activity, but not nearly as much as it had been last night during the storm. The battle must be long over, Hoseok reasons, because he doesn’t see any new patients and the medics seem much less frantic, much more focused on treatment for full recovery rather than pulling soldiers back from the brink of death. He can’t hear anything going on outside, either. All that he can hear are the birds and the eerie and oppressive silence that always follows the end of a battle, settling over the ground and spreading out far into the distance on all sides like a thick blanket of fog. 

It’s still a bit too warm and stuffy here in the tent, a bit suffocating, but it’s much calmer and quieter, almost peaceful as the patients rest and the medics care for them. Hoseok sits up slowly and carefully against the small stack of pillows behind him just as he had last night, the bed creaking loudly at his shifting weight and the thin blanket falling to his lap, and Hoseok groans and grits his teeth at the sharp bite of pain that cuts right in the middle of his chest where his wound is the deepest. Still, he thinks it’s a good sign that he was able to move on his own this time. 

He’s already feeling much better thanks to his beautiful medic’s skillful care, and his bandages feel almost dry now, significantly less bloody, though of course he’ll need to keep wearing them until the wound is fully healed and there’s no risk of infection or his stitches opening up. It’ll probably be weeks, maybe even months. His head feels almost back to normal, too, after a few solid hours of rest following a string of days without a good night’s sleep in the midst of battle, and he thinks he might even be feeling a little bit hungry. Having an appetite has to be another good sign, right? 

Hoseok adjusts slightly, doing his best to ignore the lingering prickles of pain in what feels like every cell in his body, and his eyes scan the room, his vision clear, searching for a familiar face as his heart thrums a little faster in his chest at the thought of the object of his newfound affection. He finally spots the beautiful boy across the room by one of the water reserves, filling glass bottles with clean water to be used for tending to fresh wounds, and Hoseok watches him silently with fascination for a few long minutes. They boy doesn’t notice him yet, and he doesn’t seem as if he’s slept very much, either. Even from here, Hoseok can spot the dark circles under his pretty eyes, and it makes Hoseok’s heart twinge to imagine him working himself ragged all throughout the night when he deserves to be sleeping peacefully on a bed of clouds. 

Hoseok can’t help but smile to himself, musing at the mental image of his lovely medic dressed in beautiful silks and splayed out on his back on a mountain of soft, fluffy white, a sweet-smelling summer rain pouring to the earth beneath him and the misty air blowing gently through his dark hair as he sleeps with flushed pink cheeks and parted red lips, the fabric of his silks fallen off his shoulder just enough to spot the delicate lines of his clavicle. 

Hoseok completely loses himself to his daydream, then, and is no longer paying attention to where his eyes are actually looking, becomes completely unaware that he’s now just plain staring, and the medic must finally sense Hoseok’s eyes on him just as Hoseok’s fantasy takes a shamelessly sensual turn that has Hoseok’s blood pumping just the slightest bit faster and harder. As the medic closes one of the glass bottles filled to the brim with water and looks up from what he’s doing, he immediately turns to Hoseok, and the two of them make eye contact from opposite sides of the tent, Hoseok pulled out of his naughty thoughts in a smooth, quiet rush. 

The boy’s eyes light up locked with Hoseok’s, and Hoseok can’t stop himself from grinning like an idiot as the boy leaves the water reserve and makes his way over with quick but graceful steps. The boy’s eyes are tired and bloodshot and his hair is messy and dull and his clothes are ragged and stained with blood and who knows what else, but Hoseok’s breath catches in his chest and his heart skips a beat anyway, because the real thing is even more beautiful than any fantasy Hoseok’s touch and love-starved mind could conjure. 

“How are you feeling?” the medic asks as he approaches, taking a seat in the little chair by Hoseok’s bed just the slightest bit too quickly. He’s obviously nervous, and Hoseok smirks, confident that he’s not the only one feeling the undeniable magic between them. 

“Much better,” Hoseok says, voice warm and genuinely so grateful. “You took such good care of me, and getting a few solid hours of sleep really did the trick.” 

The boy just stares at him for a long moment in silence, a perplexed expression clouding his pretty features, until he tilts his head slightly and lets out a small, disbelieving chuckle. “A few hours?” he says. “You’ve been asleep for almost three days.” 

Hoseok chokes on air, a chill running up his spine. “What?” he asks. 

“Almost three days,” the boy repeats, chuckling again, but his voice is warm and kind. “I took care of you just the same. Changed your bandages, kept your wound clean, kept you hydrated.” 

He pauses for a moment, then, his mouth twitching in that adorable little smile of his. “You’re really heavy, you know,” the boy goes on. “Really difficult to move when you’re unconscious, with those silly muscles of yours.” 

He blushes slightly, his eyes falling onto Hoseok’s chest, and Hoseok grins, tilting his head down and letting his dark hair fall into his eyes in a way that he knows makes him look extra handsome. The mood shifts, however, as the medic looks down at the floor and starts playing with his hands, suddenly looking serious, and Hoseok is left breathless at how effortlessly beautiful he is even now. 

“I was starting to get very worried about you,” the boy says. “I kept checking your pulse and your breathing, all of your vitals to make sure that you were still here with us. There were a few times when they were so faint that I...I couldn’t be entirely sure.” 

The boy looks back up and right into Hoseok’s eyes, and Hoseok feels something wash over him, something soft and gentle, something that he hasn’t experienced in a long time, something that he didn’t think still existed when all he’s known for years now is death and darkness. 

“Saved my life again, huh?” Hoseok murmurs. 

The boy doesn’t respond, but he gives Hoseok a small and sad smile that Hoseok can’t quite understand but that touches him deep inside like a soft and careful caress. The boy then stands up abruptly and moves to lean over Hoseok once more, reaching for one of Hoseok’s arms. At first, Hoseok blushes a bit, his heart skipping a beat again, caught off-guard, but then he realizes that the boy is just examining his recovery, something that he must have done dozens of times while Hoseok was unconscious, and so Hoseok relaxes, lets himself go pliant so that the medic can do his job properly. 

The medic moves Hoseok’s arm around carefully, asking Hoseok questions like “Does this hurt when I do this?” or “Can you feel it when I press my thumb here?” and when he’s finished, he switches to Hoseok’s other arm and then his shoulders, Hoseok watching him the entire time with soft eyes and a gentle, easy smile, one that quickly transitions into an exaggerated, flirtatiously sultry gaze when the boy starts touching Hoseok’s chest and abs, pressing his hands down firmly into Hoseok’s muscles to check for internal damage, the boy’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes serious as he works with the utmost care and tries to ignore Hoseok’s mischief, the boy struggling not to smile as he works his way down to the muscles of Hoseok’s hips and pelvis, his hands very nearly right where Hoseok wants them to be. 

“Will you quit it?” the boy says, exasperated, but he’s half-laughing and his face is splashed pink, his voice flustered, and Hoseok grins wide in victory. “You almost died and yet you can’t stop flirting.” 

“Almost dying made me realize how short life is,” Hoseok coos. “You have to live every day like it’s your last. And it’s hard to resist when I’ve got someone so pretty to flirt with.” 

The boy just shakes his head in response, at a clear loss for words, chuckling quietly as he moves on to checking Hoseok’s hands, pressing onto Hoseok’s palms and bending his fingers to make sure that everything is as it should be. Hoseok can’t help but to focus on how soft the medic’s hands are despite all of the hard work he’s done with those very same hands, and Hoseok figures he must just be one of those people whose beauty is untouchable no matter the circumstances. The medic carefully rotates Hoseok’s wrists before moving back to check again on his palms, and so far, there doesn’t seem to be any nerve-damage or permanent injury as a side-effect to Hoseok’s wound. 

“It seems that you’re in perfect shape, all things considered,” the boy says, as if echoing Hoseok’s thoughts. He’s still holding one of Hoseok’s hands between his own, looking up and making eye contact with Hoseok again as he continues, and Hoseok can feel the steady beat of the medic’s pulse right in the center of his palms. “Your life is no longer in danger, but you’ve still got a lot of recovery left ahead of you, and having a brush with death like that, you might never be the same.” 

Hoseok smiles, silently coos to himself that he’s already not the same as he was before, and in the best possible way. “As long as you’re the one taking care of me,” Hoseok says, eyes bright, “I know I’ll get better soon enough, and even better than I was before I was almost slashed in half by a sword.” 

Hoseok feels a burst of happiness inside as the boy goes silent and blushes again, clearly flustered as he opens and closes his mouth several times in a struggle to respond, somehow even more beautiful each time it happens, and Hoseok is pretty sure that he’s already head-over-heels in love with him. The medic then lets out a breathy little laugh and shakes his head quickly as if to clear his mind, laying Hoseok’s hand down gently before stepping away to gather more supplies, and Hoseok can’t stop himself, can’t stop his eyes from slipping up and down the boy’s backside, and he grins when his gaze lands on the medic’s round, tight, adorable little ass. Yes, he’s perfect, and Hoseok is definitely in love with him. 

“My name is Hoseok,” Hoseok says when the medic returns a few moments later with additional supplies to change Hoseok’s bandages again, and the boy doesn’t respond right away, lets Hoseok’s lovestruck voice linger in the air for several long seconds as Hoseok stares at him with stars in his eyes. 

“That’s a nice name. Strong. Masculine,” the boy finally replies, smirking, denying Hoseok the obviously intended response of his own name, and Hoseok pouts as the boy starts to remove the old bandages carefully from Hoseok’s torso, and Hoseok can feel it much better this time when it’s not overshadowed by excruciating pain, the delicate touch of the boy’s soft fingertips, much too soft for this kind of life. 

When his chest and stomach are bare, the boy turns to retrieve something from a nearby medical cart and Hoseok gets a good look at his wound. It seems much better than before, obviously, but it will likely be weeks more before it fully heals, and Hoseok knows he will carry a deep and dark scar over his torso for the rest of his life. He’ll wear it with pride, of course, as a badge of honor, the same way he wears the long slash down his left eyebrow from five years ago, and two scars curling around his right bicep from three years ago, and the burn on the right side of his neck, just beneath his ear, from his childhood, along with all of the other countless, smaller marks and hurts spanning nearly every inch of his body, all testaments to the life he’s led as a warrior. 

As the boy turns back to him but busies himself with preparing the bandages in his lap, Hoseok’s mind returns to their conversation, and he scoffs, incredulous and exaggerated at the medic’s teasing. “You’re supposed to tell me your name now, beautiful,” Hoseok says, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the boy’s arm for emphasis, because he knows it would hurt like hell to even attempt it. 

The boy stays silent but smirks, obviously enjoying the effect he’s having on Hoseok, and he looks up, and when they make eye contact, his pretty eyes are bright and filled with mirth, and Hoseok can’t help but to smile wide despite the teasing. He loves it, anyway, has always been someone who enjoys a challenge. He also, admittedly, enjoys being played with, enjoys the thrill of being denied what he wants even if it leaves him helpless and begging for mercy; it just makes it feel all the more amazing when he finally gets it, and when he returns the challenge tenfold. 

“My name is Kihyun,” the medic says, finally, and Hoseok’s heart thrums steadily in his chest as he lets the sound of it wash over him spoken in the medic’s soft, gentle voice. Kihyun. It’s a beautiful name. For a beautiful boy. 

“Cute name, Kihyun,” Hoseok says instead, immensely enjoying how Kihyun pouts and blushes in response, immensely enjoying how Kihyun’s name tastes in his mouth, light and sweet like cherries. 

Kihyun lets out a soft exhalation of effort as he bends over Hoseok’s bed again and maneuvers him around to dab his wound with alcohol and wrap the new bandages, Hoseok turning slightly onto his side so that Kihyun can reach around his back, and Hoseok wishes that he could say that it was less exhilarating each time but he’d be lying, his heart racing with his new hopeless crush as Kihyun ties off the first set of bandages tightly around his waist and helps him to carefully resume lying on his back. Hoseok is at least satisfied with the knowledge that he seems to have the same effect on Kihyun in return, who can’t seem to stop blushing every time his gaze lingers too long on Hoseok’s well-built body. 

“I have to admit, Kihyun,” Hoseok continues, eager to say Kihyun’s name as many times as he possibly can now that he’s learned it, “I think I’m already a little bit in love with you. And I don’t know if it’s because you saved my life twice, or because it’s too stuffy in here and I’m suffering from oxygen deprivation, or because I haven’t eaten in three days and you look like the most delicious little meal, but I never thought I’d find someone like you here and it’s making me a bit crazy.” 

Hoseok says all of this very quickly, all in one breath, and Kihyun just looks at him with wide eyes, a little stunned, and Hoseok’s stomach drops as he wonders for one terrifying moment if he’s read the situation completely wrong, if he’s gone too far in their little game of flirtation, even if he’s being completely honest now, but then, to his relief, Kihyun’s eyes crinkle into those same adorable crescents as he giggles, cheeks pink as he turns away to gather another long roll of bandages, and he sounds undeniably happy when he speaks. 

“Someone like me?” Kihyun asks, voice quiet, and his face is turned away, but Hoseok can hear the soft, breathless smile in his voice and it causes Hoseok to smile in return. Kihyun then turns back to Hoseok and helps him to roll onto his side for the next layer of bandages, bending over Hoseok’s waist to reach the area just beneath his shoulder blades, right in the center of his back, and causing Hoseok’s heart to pick up speed as Kihyun’s soft stomach just barely touches his waist. 

“Yes, someone like you,” Hoseok breathes out as Kihyun helps him to lie on his back again and turns away to reach for the third layer of bandages. “You obviously don’t belong here, do you?” 

Kihyun pauses for a moment, goes still, and when he turns back to Hoseok, he’s got an eyebrow raised, a quirk of curiosity to his lips. 

“And you do?” Kihyun says. “Does anyone belong in a medical tent, really?” His eyes look sad, suddenly, and Hoseok knows that he’s thinking about how Hoseok nearly died here, twice. 

“What I mean is,” Hoseok starts. “All I can do is fight. It’s either here or on the battlefield or dead, for me. But you. You’re something else, and it’s not just because you’re a medic.” 

Kihyun looks at him for a long time in silence, Hoseok looking right back and deep into Kihyun’s eyes, unwavering, and Hoseok can tell that Kihyun is thinking very, very carefully about what to say next, and his hesitation alone is enough to confirm Hoseok’s suspicions, but he does wonder if Kihyun will trust him enough to tell him the truth, and he certainly hopes so. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Kihyun says, finally. “Maybe I don’t belong here.” 

Neither of them speaks as Kihyun bends himself over Hoseok’s body one last time to roll him over onto his side and wind the bandages around his chest and stomach, this time tying the final knot low on Hoseok’s stomach, just below his navel. The new bandages are thick and tight and wrapped perfectly, but they limit Hoseok’s movement and all he can do now is lie back against the stack of pillows and turn his head towards Kihyun as Kihyun pulls the thin blanket up and over him to cover his full torso, then rearranges some of the items on the medical cart and rolls up the leftover bandages into a neat little ball to be used for the next round in several hours. 

“You’re not going to tell me more?” Hoseok asks, frowning as Kihyun adjusts the blanket down by his legs for no clear purpose, just giving himself something to do. 

“It’d be a shame to give away everything all at once,” Kihyun responds, looking up at him and moving to pat one of Hoseok’s shoulders before squeezing it gently. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

Kihyun’s hand stays on his shoulder, lingering, and Hoseok resists the urge to rest his own hand on top of it. “Why are you here, then, if you could be away from all of this?” Hoseok asks. “Why would you choose this?” 

Kihyun sighs, looks at Hoseok earnestly. “Why does anybody choose anything?” he says. “I wanted my life to mean something. And because I was here, instead of where I _belong_...it meant saving you.” 

Hoseok’s breath catches in his chest and his lips part slightly as they look into each other’s eyes, deep and open, until Kihyun breaks their eye contact and turns away, his palm slipping off of Hoseok’s shoulder as he reaches for the handle of the medical cart with both hands. 

“You should really get some more rest,” Kihyun murmurs without turning around. “The more you sleep, the better, and the faster you’ll be up and back on your feet.” 

Hoseok chuckles, the intensity of the moment softening. “Really?” he asks, even as he lays back on the pillow and closes his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted, his body apparently not ready yet for extended periods of sentience. “After three days out cold you still want me to sleep?” 

He hears Kihyun laugh, along with the sound of him pushing the cart and moving away to another patient. “There’s a difference between sleeping and being unconscious,” Kihyun says, his voice getting further and further away. “When you wake up, I’ll get you something to eat, so be a good patient and rest.” 

Hoseok smiles and takes a long, deep breath, taking in the last few lingering notes of Kihyun’s voice like it’s some wonderful drug, before letting himself fall back into the endless, comforting arms of the silent darkness. 

\---------- 

“So, how did you sleep?” Kihyun asks just moments after Hoseok opens his eyes. Kihyun had clearly been waiting eagerly for Hoseok to wake up and the thought makes Hoseok feel giddy inside. 

It’s early the next morning, just before sunrise and still quite dark out, and Kihyun is already sitting by Hoseok’s bedside with a bowl of hot porridge in hand as Hoseok carefully sits up on his bed and blinks himself awake from the most pleasant and comfortable sleep that he’s had in weeks. It’s significantly cooler than it’s been since Hoseok got here, a soft breeze blowing in from the opening flaps of the tent, and the morning mist feels refreshing on his cheeks instead of smothering, the birds outside quieter than usual and most of the other occupants of the tent still deeply asleep. There must have been some light rain throughout the night, because Hoseok can smell the damp grass outside and the entire world around them seems to be blanketed by that unique hush that always follows a gentle summer shower. 

The porridge that Kihyun had made for Hoseok is plain and gray, but after three days now without eating, it looks and smells like the most amazing, most delicious meal that he’s ever been given, particularly because it’s Kihyun who made it and because it’s Kihyun who’s going to feed it to him. As Hoseok’s eyes land on the porridge, Hoseok’s stomach growls loudly, betraying his hunger, and he and Kihyun make immediate eye contact, both of them chuckling. 

“Did you have any dreams that you can remember?” Kihyun goes on, scooping up a generous spoonful of the steaming-hot porridge and blowing on it to cool. “It would be a sign that you’re getting better.” 

“I did,” Hoseok replies, turning slightly to face Kihyun as Kihyun brings the spoon up carefully to Hoseok’s mouth, one hand hovering beneath it so that nothing drips onto Hoseok’s face. “I remember one dream.” 

“Oh really?” Kihyun asks, pausing his movements and looking at Hoseok with fondness. 

“Yeah,” Hoseok replies. “In fact, it was a lot like this, except you were feeding me strawberries and cream, and we were both wearing a lot less clothi—” 

Kihyun quickly shoves the spoonful of porridge into Hoseok’s mouth and Hoseok nearly chokes, but Kihyun is laughing and his cheeks are so pink, and the porridge tastes wonderful and feels wonderful as Hoseok swallows it down, and so Hoseok just grins like an idiot after and opens his mouth cutely to ask for another spoonful. 

“A few more days, and you can have something more substantial,” Kihyun says as he feeds Hoseok another spoonful of the hot, thick porridge, and Hoseok is truly in awe of how Kihyun was able to make a bowl of plain porridge the best thing that Hoseok has eaten in years, probably since he even joined the military. 

“We have other things to drink besides water, too,” Kihyun goes on as Hoseok swallows the second spoonful and Kihyun prepares the third, lifting it up carefully to Hoseok’s mouth once it’s ready. “I bet you’d love some sake.” 

“Only if you’re the one pouring it for me,” Hoseok replies without missing a beat, opening his mouth and happily accepting the third spoonful. Kihyun giggles and Hoseok smiles as he swallows, moaning a little in happiness, the porridge warming him up from the inside out and spreading out to his fingertips and toes. 

It’s undeniable now that he’s going to make a full recovery, and Hoseok can’t believe it, but he’s actually looking forward to being stuck here in the medical tent for weeks if it means he’ll get to spend time like this with lovely, beautiful Kihyun all day, every day, being doted on and cared for by the perfect, sweet little medic. In fact, this is something like Hoseok’s vision of heaven, and he wonders for the millionth time if he actually died in the battle after all. 

They chat on and off as Kihyun feeds Hoseok the rest of the porridge, each spoonful making Hoseok feel a little stronger, a little more awake, a little more confident and more cheerful. Every time they look at each other feels a little more magical, too, and Hoseok can feel himself falling deeper and deeper with every moment they spend together, even now, when it’s something so simple. When they reach the last spoonful, Hoseok swallows the porridge and playfully keeps his mouth closed around the spoon so that Kihyun can’t take it back easily, and Kihyun laughs as he pulls it out of Hoseok’s mouth and drops it into the bowl on his lap, standing up and reaching with both hands to pinch Hoseok’s cheeks hard in “punishment,” Hoseok smiling so wide that his face hurts. 

Kihyun then sets the empty bowl and spoon aside on his medical cart and promises to be back in a little while, giving Hoseok a mug of hot water to drink while he goes to care for another patient who’s just woken up, and Hoseok sits up further on the bed, completely content as he sips the hot water slowly and watches Kihyun work, the mug warm and comforting in his hands and the steam clearing his head so that he can take in every little detail. 

And the thing is, watching Kihyun like this, Kihyun so kind and caring with everyone, so gentle and so sweet, probably making everyone he comes into contact with fall at least a little bit in love with him, does things to Hoseok’s heart, makes Hoseok thankful that he nearly died, thankful for all of the awful, terrible things that have happened to him in his life, because through it all, _because_ of it all, he was able to end up here, in the right place and the right time to meet someone truly extraordinary. And however unkind destiny has been to him over the years, however many times that Hoseok has looked to the sky and begged the universe for an explanation, or for the mercy of death, Hoseok is thankful in the end that it all led him to this place and to this moment, that it led him to Kihyun. 

By the time Hoseok finishes his water, Kihyun is finished with the other patient, the smile he gives the other warrior much more formal than any of the ones that he’s given to Hoseok, Hoseok can’t help but to notice. Kihyun then makes his way back to Hoseok just a little bit too quickly, a little bit too eagerly, and Hoseok greets him with a string of silly jokes accusing Kihyun of favoritism and questioning his professional integrity, to which Kihyun asserts that Hoseok needs the extra attention because he’s more helpless than the usual patient, like a big dumb baby, to which Hoseok blames Kihyun’s beauty for turning him into such a helpless idiot who can’t take care of himself for long, to which Kihyun goes speechless, flustered, and they both laugh, the warm feelings between them blossoming stronger and stronger until it’s like they’re both lost in their own rosy little world and everything around them is nothing but the background to what is quickly becoming the happiest time of Hoseok’s life. 

Kihyun then proceeds to give Hoseok another exceedingly intimate check-up of all of his muscles, this time touching and checking certain areas that Hoseok knows for a fact were not included in Kihyun’s training, before urging Hoseok to nap again for a few hours, and Hoseok spends several minutes clinging on to Kihyun’s hand and passionately trying to convince him that he needs Kihyun to sleep with him on the tiny bed for medical purposes, emotional support and all of that, and Kihyun just reaches down and pulls the thin blanket right over Hoseok’s face for a moment to shut him up, but he does promise to be back later with soft, gentle eyes, and Hoseok turns carefully to lie on his side so that he can watch Kihyun leave as he sighs to himself in lovestruck bliss and lets himself drift back to sleep. 

And Hoseok is able to rest comfortably for a few solid hours, deep and dreamless until it feels like the embrace of slumber has settled deep into his very bones, waking in the afternoon feeling relaxed and drowsy to the sight of Kihyun working diligently on the other side of the room, and Hoseok just stares at him again for a long time, half-awake, once again curious to see how long it will take for Kihyun to feel Hoseok’s eyes on him, and when Kihyun finally does, he gifts Hoseok with a beautiful, glowing smile that Hoseok swears lights up the whole room like sunshine. 

Shortly after, Kihyun brings him another bowl of porridge and another mug of steaming-hot water, helping him to eat and drink while Hoseok continues to joke about how he thinks he might need 24/7 care and shouldn’t be left alone for even a second, and the afternoon gives way to evening, where the two of them play cards and chat for hours, both of them sitting on top of the bed covers, Hoseok sitting up comfortably with his legs crossed under him against the stack of pillows and Kihyun perched at the foot of the bed. Most of the other patients and a few of the medics are asleep, and the large front flap to the medical tent is pinned open because it’s a beautiful night, cool and breezy and only slightly humid. There are fireflies glittering outside and the moon is full and bright, and Hoseok feels so at peace, he wishes that this night could last forever, that he could stay in this moment, here with Kihyun, forever. 

“I think you’re going to feel really, _really_ great after tomorrow,” Kihyun is saying as he deals the cards between them on the bed for the next round of their card game, Kihyun having won now three times in a row (but only because Hoseok had made sure to let him win at all costs). “Your treatment, I mean. You’re going to like it. I have a feeling that it’s going to significantly aid in your recovery.” 

“Oh really?” Hoseok asks, smirking as he picks up the new hand he’s been dealt and plots the best way to sabotage himself. “What kind of treatment are we talking about? A new medicine? A massage? A handj—” 

“A bath!” Kihyun exclaims, laughing and playfully hitting Hoseok in the stomach, Kihyun’s cheeks their deepest pink he’s seen yet, and Hoseok wonders if Kihyun’s face will stay that way after spending so much time with him, splashed in a permanent blush. 

“I think you’re ready for a bath tomorrow,” Kihyun goes on, looking at his own hand of cards thoughtfully and humming to himself, his eyes bright. Despite not seeming to ever sleep very much, Kihyun seems cheerful and energetic, happy and content, and Hoseok isn’t the type to brag, but he knows that he has more than a little something to do with it, with Kihyun’s smile and sparkling eyes. “We want to get you up and moving again, and your manly musk is getting a little stronger than would be preferred, if I’m being honest.” 

“I’m gonna need more than just a bath,” Hoseok says, wishing he could pay more attention to his cards but unable to take his eyes off of Kihyun. “I’m thinking a deep clean is in order, a deep scrub for hours. I really feel like the dirt and grime has set deep into my skin, you know?” 

“Oh yes, of course,” Kihyun says, chuckling, setting one of his cards down in the space between them. “And I’m sure your muscles are quite stiff and sore from lying in bed for so long, so you might need that full-body massage after all. Strictly for medical necessity.” 

“Oh yes, _of course_ ,” Hoseok repeats, laughing and setting down one of his own cards on top of Kihyun’s after pretending to think about it. “And how long has it been since you’ve had a bath yourself? I’m thinking I could help you out with yours, too. It would be good for me to give my hands and fingers some exercise, don’t you think?” 

Kihyun looks up at him and they make eye contact, Kihyun’s blush going even deeper, his cheeks red like plump strawberries, so cute that all Hoseok wants is to lean forward the few inches between them and kiss his face. Kihyun’s eyes drop down to Hoseok’s lips, then, and Hoseok wonders if he’s having the same kind of thoughts. 

“Well,” Kihyun starts, smiling softly and looking down at his cards again. “If you want to, we could—” 

They’re suddenly interrupted by a loud commotion outside, and before they even have the time to look up and react to the noise, there are dozens of armored soldiers spilling into the medical tent, and someone outside is shouting orders in a loud, harsh voice. 

Hoseok recognizes them as the royal guard because of their uniforms, and his eyebrows furrow, his lips parting in confusion. He can’t guess what this is about, as the fighting has been over since he got here, the armies currently held in an armistice as the leadership on both sides negotiates, and the royal guard showing up on the battlefield itself doesn’t make much sense either. He turns to look at Kihyun, and his stomach drops, his blood running cold when he sees that Kihyun is frozen in place with wide eyes, his face drained completely white. 

More guards spill in as the man outside continues to shout orders, and one of the other medics, a woman named Soyou whom Hoseok has figured out to be the one in charge, stands up quickly at the commotion and rushes to confront the soldiers. “What’s this fuss about?” she asks, voice stern and angry. “We’ve got recovering patients here.” 

One of the guards steps forward to speak to her, and something about him makes Hoseok feel immediately uneasy, feel uncomfortable prickles inside like he’s swallowed tiny shards of glass. “We have orders to find the prince and bring him back to his family,” the guard says. “He ran away from home several weeks ago and we received word that he’s hiding out and posing as a medic.” 

“The prince?” Soyou says in disbelief, arms crossed. “We certainly don’t know anything about th—” 

And from there, everything happens very quickly. 

The guard pushes past her roughly and to Hoseok’s horror, comes right for Kihyun, grabbing his wrist and yanking him up off the bed so hard that Kihyun yelps loudly in pain, the playing cards spilling everywhere, and Hoseok immediately moves to stand up and reach for him, but the sharp pain that rips through his whole body from moving so abruptly is so intense that he yells and collapses right back to the bed, doubled-over in agony, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching his stomach. The stitches on his wound have ripped opened and blood is quickly soaking dark red through his bandages, all of Kihyun’s hard work and loving care undone in an instant. 

“You’re in big trouble,” he hears the guard say as he tugs Kihyun away harshly, his voice distant and distorted as Hoseok’s pulse pounds hard in his ears and drowns out nearly everything else. “You’ll be disciplined accordingly however your father sees fit.” 

Hoseok’s mind feels like it’s clogged with all of the new information that he’s trying to process all at once, and with the ungodly agony of his newly-opened wound, but all he can think about is Kihyun, Kihyun...the _prince_? He wearily opens his eyes just in time to find Kihyun’s, to lock gazes, and as Kihyun is pulled away from him by the wrist and quickly surrounded by guards, pulled so hard and tight that there are sure to be bruises staining his pale, beautiful skin, he looks only at Hoseok, and he looks apologetic, devastated, and above all else, terrified. 

Hoseok’s heart squeezes hard in his chest and he lets out a wrecked groan of a noise as he stands up again, but this time, it’s too much for his body to handle. A wave of horrific pain and nausea pulses through him everywhere and all at once and he collapses to the ground, falling unconscious into a deep, endless ocean of black.


	2. Chapter 2

Hoseok awakens at some point in the middle of the night, opening his eyes slowly, his body aching and exhausted, his dry, chapped lips parting slightly as he sucks in a weak, shallow breath that hurts more than does anything else. The medical tent is silent and hot and humid and stuffy just as it had been the night that he got here, as if he’s gone back in time to when he was cut down on the battlefield, or as if everything that had happened since then had only been a dream. 

His head pounds with a thick, excruciating headache, like it’s being squeezed in from all sides, and his chest feels tight and stiff and sore. Yet again, he has no idea how long he’s been out. Has it been hours? Days? Longer? And for a few short moments, he wonders bitterly how many more half-dead awakenings like this that he’ll have to experience before he can get out of here and back out into the world. 

But it’s then that he remembers everything that had happened all at once, all of the events of the past few days rushing behind his eyes so fast and so intense that it nearly makes him sick, and while at first, it’s detached, like being out of his body and flying too high and too fast to see any of it clearly, his stomach drops and his blood runs cold when it all shrieks to a halt at one single memory, one single image vibrant and crystal-clear like he’s fallen back to the earth and is watching it play out right in front of him again. 

Kihyun. The prince. Gone. The look of terror on Kihyun’s face at the appearance of the royal guard, the heartbreak in Kihyun’s eyes as he looked back at Hoseok. 

Kihyun, a prince. The smart, funny, beautiful, kind medic that Hoseok had bonded with so quickly, that Hoseok had been so immensely attracted to at first sight, that had treated Hoseok like a person instead of a faceless soldier and had cared for Hoseok with so much love and special attention, is a _prince_. 

A prince. A _prince_. Someone like Hoseok, someone from his position in society, shouldn’t even be in the same _room_ with a prince, shouldn’t even be in the _vicinity_ of a prince, let alone growing close with him, let alone openly flirting and messing around and getting to know him on deep, intimate levels. He had let Kihyun touch him all over his body for both medical and nonmedical purposes, had talked to him like they had known each other for years, had made numerous sexual references and inappropriate jokes, had done enough that he’d surely be sentenced to death by ritual suicide, forced to slice open his belly and spill his guts onto the ground without question. And for goodness sake, Hoseok had nearly had the prince ready and wanting to _bathe_ with him, ready for things to go far beyond what was appropriate for a medic and their patient even if Kihyun _hadn’t_ also been a prince. 

And of course, it wouldn’t just be Hoseok who’d face the consequences if this got out. Kihyun would be punished, certainly, if his family knew that he had been fawning over a lowly, dirty soldier, that he had been flirting with a _man_ , and the thought makes Hoseok feel horribly guilty and angry at himself, because the truth is, this is his fault and his fault alone. He had been acting inappropriate from the start; what kind of soldier bonds like that with their medic? He should have never let it go so far, should have never put Kihyun in that position, should have never let himself be so stupid as to fall in l— 

Hoseok suddenly chokes out a loud, rough, gasping sort of noise as his chest painfully contracts, and he bolts upright, immediately doubling over in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth hard as he clutches onto his chest and stomach, his legs bent under the thin blanket as he curls forward in agony, his dark hair damp with sweat and hanging in his eyes, his bandages wet and sticky with half-dried blood and fresh blood oozing out from his wound at his abrupt movements. He’s sickly-pale and sweating all over, and it’s hard to believe that he had made so much progress in his recovery, because now, it just feels like he’s right back to where he started, fresh off the battlefield and fighting for his life, only this time, he doesn’t have Kihyun here to care for him and he has no idea what will happen now, or if he’ll even make it this time. 

No. He can’t think like that. As he curls in further on himself and clutches his stomach, wheezing and breathing heavily while he stays still to allow the pain to subside, he thinks of Kihyun and is filled with strength, his warrior’s determination cloaking him like a thick cloud of smoke as he tunes out everything else. He has to make it. He can’t die here, can’t die like this, not while Kihyun is still out there without him. 

Kihyun. He’s a prince, and he’s got this entire life that Hoseok can’t even imagine, but he was, he is also Hoseok’s friend, someone whom Hoseok had, in such a short time, forged such a strong connection with. Fallen quite hard for, if he’s honest. And underneath all of the flirting and the obvious attraction, underneath their easy, effortless chemistry, Hoseok had found himself a kindred spirit, a companion who, despite their different backgrounds, their different circumstances, their different _worlds_ , actually understood him, someone who had touched Hoseok’s soul so deeply that it was like they were always meant to find each other. Destiny, or something like that. Hoseok doesn’t know what it is, but he feels it now more than ever, that he and Kihyun are supposed to know each other, are supposed to be _together_. 

But now, Kihyun is gone. Gone off to somewhere that Hoseok can't possibly reach without what's sure to be one hell of a struggle and a mountain of obstacles along the way, and especially not like this, not in this condition, when he can barely stay conscious and can barely move. And even if he wasn’t so critically injured, he has no idea where to begin to look, let alone how he’d possibly accomplish even a glimpse at a prince surrounded by the royal guard, one who had just run away from home and will likely be monitored at all times. 

After all, Hoseok is nothing but a low-born, low-ranked soldier, quintessential of the rough, dirty world that had drawn the prince away from his gilded shelter in the first place. He doesn’t think he’ll exactly be welcomed with open arms, doesn’t exactly expect that he can just walk right up and announce himself as the prince’s almost-lover. And being a lowly soldier is bad enough, but a _man_ too? Surely the family would take issue with their precious son being in love with another man when they’ve probably got a bride lined up for him, one that he’s been betrothed to since before he was born. 

But despite everything, all Hoseok wants to do is to try anyway, to scramble out of this shitty bed in this shitty tent and bolt before anyone can stop him, to set off to find the one who he thinks might be his soulmate even if he has to crawl on his belly in the dirt and the mud, even if he has to bleed his guts out the entire way, he’d make it to Kihyun even if it killed him, because he’s not ready to let go of him without a fight. It’s in his nature as a warrior to fight to his last breath, always, and for once, he actually has something that he’s desperate to fight for, desperate to protect. 

But as he sits there curled up on the bed and as the pain continues to pulse through him in waves, showing no sign of slowing down as it leaves his vision blurry and churns in his stomach like he’ll vomit bile at any second, he has to face the harsh reality that he can’t do anything, not a single thing, not until he allows himself time to recover. If he tries to leave now, it’ll be a suicide mission, and he'll die before he even makes it out of the tent. 

There’s no Kihyun rushing to help Hoseok this time, no Kihyun working diligently at all hours of the day, nobody coming to take care of him at all until Hoseok groans loudly and the medic dozing nearby with his head in his hand finally wakes and notices him, rushing over to help Hoseok to sit up. And this medic is _certainly_ no Kihyun; he’s much younger, clearly inexperienced and terrified, skinny and weak, probably drafted to be a medic because he wasn’t physically strong enough to be a soldier, with shaking hands and a nervous, anxious demeanor that grows more nervous and more anxious at the sight of Hoseok’s bleeding wound, the medic frozen in fear for a moment as he gapes at the steady gushing of blood with wide eyes and a stupefied expression. Hoseok can see already that he has none of Kihyun’s adaptability or resourcefulness, none of Kihyun’s ability to act quickly and calmly in a tense situation, none of Kihyun’s problem-solving skills or his comforting, soothing bedside manner that always made Hoseok feel like he could trust him absolutely. 

But Hoseok barely pays any attention even as the medic begins to tend to his wound, thin hands applying pressure with a cloth towel to stop the bleeding before he can remove the soiled bandages, and Hoseok doesn’t look at the medic even as the pain from the contact ripples through Hoseok’s body stronger and stronger with each pulse of his heart. Hoseok bears it all without reaction save for his difficult, labored breaths and the fire raging behind his eyes, and it’s not just because the medic isn’t Kihyun, but because Hoseok’s mind is moving much too quickly now, unable to settle, unable to quiet down, a hopeless scramble of half-baked ideas, of all possible scenarios, any kind of plan for what his next steps should be, and he’s fueled only by his determination, by his emotions, and by his desperation, by the knowledge in his heart that he had met someone truly special and that now, he has to do everything in his power to find him again. 

He owes that much to Kihyun, after everything that Kihyun has done for him. He can’t let Kihyun slip through his fingers like this, can’t let their paths diverge so soon and so abruptly, can’t let their relationship end like this, not when he knows with his entire being that Kihyun didn’t want it to end like this, either. And above all else, he can’t rest, he physically won’t be able to rest, until he knows that Kihyun is safe and happy. 

Hoseok knows now that despite his mistakes, he had been right to think that Kihyun didn’t belong here, had been right to think that Kihyun was special, and he wishes now that he could’ve gotten more information while Kihyun was still here; if he hadn’t been so busy flirting and acting like a lovestruck idiot, he might have gotten a lead on where to find him. And Hoseok knows that he shouldn’t be so hard on himself; it had been hard to even think straight with Kihyun around, after all, and it was a miracle that he had even spoke in coherent sentences, but he does scold himself internally for not probing deeper into his initial suspicious, or at least figuring out who Kihyun really was and where he was really from. 

When the bleeding has finally slowed, the medic begins to maneuver Hoseok’s body around to unwind his bandages, and Hoseok cooperates the best that he can without blacking out from the pain, because he’s sure that this poor kid will break his arms if he tries to move Hoseok’s weight without assistance, and Hoseok lets his mind wander as he keeps breathing deep and steady, as he shoves the way his body is screaming at him in agony far, far, far into the back of his mind, and instead, he goes over everything that he can remember, focuses on trying to recall everything that he’s ever heard or read about the different royal families and which one Kihyun might possibly belong to. 

Is Kihyun the emperor’s son, or maybe the shogun’s? He could be the son of any high-level military or political officer, really, and the title of “prince” could mean many different things. The truth is, Hoseok really has no clue. He’s never paid much attention to the political aspects of the war, all the ongoing drama between the most important families and factions and all of their conflicting interests and never-ending internal battles. He’s always only focused on his own duty as a soldier to the shogun to protect the country, and his own survival on the battlefield as well as the survival of his comrades. Everything else just never seemed to matter much, though when he thinks about it now, Hoseok supposes he should pay more attention from now on, because the ones on top are naturally the ones who make all the actual fighting happen in the first place. 

He frowns to himself, then, frustrated at his own ignorance and at this hopeless situation, but silent and calm on the outside, wincing a bit as the medic cleans his wound with far less care than Kihyun had, using too much alcohol and rubbing instead of patting the cloth onto his skin, agitating the delicate stitches and causing Hoseok’s entire chest and stomach to sting painfully in its wake. The medic then starts to unwind a roll of fresh bandages, allowing the wound a few moments to breathe, and when he begins to maneuver Hoseok’s body around again to wrap and tie off the new bandages, Hoseok allows his mind to wander while helping as much as he can, focusing on what he needs to do like he’s done so many times on the battlefield when faced with seemingly impossible odds. 

He knows that despite how frustrating it all is, he has to be patient, has to stay here with this mediocre medic taking care of him while he recovers, has to wait to regain his strength fully, and then, only then, will he have a shot at finding his lost little prince. And Hoseok has always been hotheaded, reckless and passionate and wild and uncontainable, the type to act first and ask questions later, the type to do what he wants to do and when he wants to do it and always on his own terms, but he knows that now he has to fight against all of his instincts, he has to get a grip on himself or risk losing everything. He has to do what Kihyun would do, he knows this now. 

Hoseok swallows hard, then, anxious, Kihyun’s sweet face appearing in his mind, because what if he’s not fast enough? He knows he’ll be here at least a few more weeks, and it’s not a long time, but so much could happen, everything could change. After all, so much had changed for Hoseok in just a few short days, who knows what could happen in the coming weeks. What if Kihyun’s family left this part of the country by then, gone off somewhere that Hoseok can’t possibly hope to find no matter how desperately he searches? What if something happens to Kihyun before Hoseok can get to him, or what if the fighting begins again and Hoseok is forced to stay here or be executed for deserting? What if Kihyun, as a valuable member of a royal family, is taken hostage by enemy forces, or worse? 

The thoughts tumble through Hoseok’s mind one after another, making his heart squeeze and wrench horribly in his chest, because he feels so _useless_ right now, unable to do anything but imagine the worst possibilities, and it’s then that Hoseok remembers that one of the royal guards had mentioned something about punishment, hadn’t they? And they wouldn’t go easy on Kihyun just because he was a prince; in fact, the punishment would likely be severe to discourage him running away ever again. 

It’s then that the medic finally leaves Hoseok alone with his thoughts, and Hoseok grits his teeth hard as his blood surges hot with unbridled anger at the mere notion of one of those bastards hurting his Kihyun. 

_His_ Kihyun. 

And now, there’s the other thought, the nagging reminder that even though Hoseok feels like his whole life has changed from meeting Kihyun, the bitter truth is that he only knew Kihyun for a few days. Yes, Kihyun was beautiful and funny and kind, and he and Hoseok had certainly connected, but it’s not as if they really know each other all that well, it’s not as if they were at even more than just the beginning stages of friendship, let alone anything close to lovers. In fact, Hoseok barely knows Kihyun at all; he doesn’t know anything about his family, or where he lives, or anything about his life, not really, and vice versa. There just hadn’t been enough time for it. 

Who’s to say that Kihyun will even remember him? Who’s to say that Kihyun will even want to see him again? Perhaps their budding friendship was nothing more than Kihyun just being a wonderful, attentive medic, or perhaps Kihyun was just flirting with him because he was bored, like Hoseok had done himself to so many others. Who’s to say that Kihyun doesn’t already have a lover or an entire family of his own? Just because Hoseok is lost and alone in the world doesn’t mean that Kihyun is too. 

And then, despite his feelings, Hoseok sighs to himself, resigned, because he certainly hopes that Kihyun never feels lost or alone, whatever that means for their relationship. Finding out that he didn’t mean as much to Kihyun as Kihyun meant to him, finding out that he was just some speck of dirt in Kihyun’s life when Kihyun has become the entire world to him, would honestly be a blessing at this point. He would rather find out that Kihyun is happy without him than any bleaker alternative. 

And even if his heart gets broken in the process, Hoseok doesn’t care. Against all rationality, and against all the worst possible outcomes, he won’t give up on Kihyun. He won’t give up on finding him even if he has to cross oceans to do it, even if it takes years, even if it takes the rest of his life, and he won’t give up on making sure that Kihyun is safe and content, and if that means without Hoseok, then so be it. And of course, if Hoseok can indeed continue to be a part of Kihyun’s life, in whatever capacity, he’ll make sure to love and to protect Kihyun with all of his heart, to cherish him deeply and absolutely, to do everything in his power to make sure that his little prince is always happy. 

And at that thought, Hoseok can’t help but to chuckle to himself, because of course, of all of the people in the world, he _had_ to fall in love with a prince. He’s had relationships, casual flings and such, but never like this. He’s never been _in love_ before, never felt so consumed by another person in body and heart and mind and soul. And it’s always been hard enough for him that he’s attracted only to men, but he couldn’t even fall for another man within his own social rank, like another soldier or a humble villager. He had to fall for the one who might be the most unattainable person imaginable, and now that he’s met Kihyun, he won’t ever be able to settle for anyone else. 

Despite everything, despite the pain and his circumstances, despite all the obstacles in his way and the long road sure to be ahead of him, Hoseok grins to himself, because it’s just in his nature to be a troublemaker, he supposes, and he thinks it may be part of why he and Kihyun had connected, why it had felt and still feels like they’re so perfect for each other. Kihyun is quite the troublemaker himself, it seems, running away from home to save wounded soldiers, hiding out for weeks while his family searched the country for him, befriending and accepting (and reciprocating) the romantic advances of another man. Hoseok knows that like himself, Kihyun understands that sometimes, one has to go his own way, one has to live his life on his own terms even when the whole world is against him, even when everyone stands in his path, and if he finds someone else to fight that fight with, that someone else is worth holding on to. 

It’s with that thought that Hoseok’s conviction intensifies, and he’s sure now that he and Kihyun’s meeting was no accident, that they belong together and that with his last breath, Hoseok will make sure they can be together again. 

Hoseok uses these thoughts of Kihyun, of the future that he wants for them or at least, the relief that he’ll feel when he’s certain that Kihyun is safe and doing well, to fuel him through the next few difficult weeks of recovery, and it’s even more difficult than he had anticipated, the time going by much too slowly without Kihyun there by his side. 

He’s able to stay awake most of the time in daylight, able to eat and drink and move around more and more with each day that goes by, but without Kihyun to talk to, without Kihyun there to give him the emotional strength and motivation, he finds himself tormented by boredom and fatigue, often giving way to dark, anxious thoughts. He finds himself gloomy and depressed most nights as he stares up at the darkness of the medical tent ceiling, feeling powerless and hopeless, only able to talk himself out of giving up altogether by imaging Kihyun’s smiling face and beautiful eyes and soft, gentle hands. 

And even when it gets so hard to do _nothing_ , even when all he wants is to bolt in the night and take his chances with his wound only half-healed, as the summer transitions to fall and the nights grow cooler, as the war quiets down and the medical tent slowly empties its short-term patients, he makes sure to eat well and to sleep well, to bathe often and to rest often, knowing that the more that he cooperates with the medics’ instructions, the more patient that he is, the faster that he’ll heal, the sooner that he’ll be out of here. This isn’t a situation that he can fight his way out of, not like all of the other times in his life. No, this battle has to be fought in an entirely different way. It’s a test of his willpower, a test of his resolve, a fight against himself and all of his instincts. 

Needless to say, he’s miserable in those weeks, but he’s also enduring and resolute, his mind focused only on healing, his body growing stronger and his convictions hardening like steel even when his heart aches at the thought of Kihyun out there without him, even when he misses Kihyun so terribly that every night he dreams of him, and of the two of them together. Usually, the dreams are sweet and romantic, idyllic visions of flowers and starlight and soft wind and sunshine, all of the things that Hoseok wants to do for Kihyun, how he wants to shower him in gifts and in beautiful moments and in gentle kisses, how he wants to talk with Kihyun until they find all of the answers together, and to laugh with Kihyun until their faces hurt, and to hold Kihyun close in his arms so that Kihyun will always feel warm. 

But sometimes, the dreams are heated, and Hoseok wakes up flushed and panting following visions of Kihyun splayed out beautifully beneath him, opened up like a flower, so warm, so _wet_ , but even so, Hoseok refuses to make any noise or to touch himself, even when he _aches_ so bad that he thinks he might die from it, because he wants his first time with Kihyun (if there ever _is_ a first time) to be real, not just himself getting off alone and broken to some blurry, phantom image in his mind. 

Despite his obnoxious flirting when they were together here, Hoseok thinks that Kihyun deserves more than to just be some sexual fantasy, just some hot and fast infatuation, just fodder for stress relief, and though it’s often painful and he often has to wait hours to clear the images from his head and cool himself down, despite so often wanting to just give in to temptation, Hoseok refuses to use Kihyun’s memory like that. Not here, not like this. He can’t control what his subconscious does or how his body reacts to it, but he can control _himself_ , and if his desires never get fulfilled, then he’ll at least be satisfied to know that he did the right thing. 

And during the day, all day, every day, no matter what he’s doing or not doing, he hears Kihyun’s voice always in the back of his mind, sees Kihyun everywhere and in everything. Kihyun becomes an obsession, like a part of his soul that he can’t shake away, like now that he’s found Kihyun after a lifetime of always being half-empty, he’s finally complete, or at least, he needs Kihyun to be complete, and it’s become impossible to survive without him. 

Sometimes, Hoseok feels like he can even physically sense Kihyun there with him, Kihyun’s _essence_ , and he wonders if it’s just his mind woozy from medicine and from the battle of recovery, or if it’s just his broken heart tormenting him, or if what he’s feeling is real, like him and Kihyun are always connected even with so much distance between them. It gets to the point where even the thought of Kihyun feels like some kind of spiritual, profound connection between them, and all in all, Kihyun is gone but never leaves him, is always lingering, and is both what keeps him anchored to his reality and keeps him motivated to keep going, to keep getting stronger each and every day. 

A little more than a month passes, and it’s a long, long month that feels like ten different lifetimes, before the medics finally clear Hoseok to leave, one of only a handful of soldiers requiring long-term care. And in the time that Hoseok has been stuck here in the medical tent, slowly healing and regaining his strength, the war has ended, or at least, the fighting has ceased for the foreseeable future. There’s been a truce agreed upon by the leadership of both sides, so Hoseok can rest easy knowing that he won’t be called back to the battlefield any time soon, and he truly couldn’t be more relieved that he won’t have to worry about anything else but finding Kihyun. 

He hadn’t gotten to know the other medics very well, having been so focused only on Kihyun, but he’s sure to thank them for taking care of him, even if it had been a slower and rougher recovery than it would have been if Kihyun were there. After all, they're the reason he’s even able to leave now; they had done their jobs well enough that he’s almost back to full form, and he’s ready to go and live normally again. 

His wound is nearly healed and no longer requires bandages; he just needs to be careful to not get too physically rough until it’s fully healed, and as he had guessed, it’s become a dark, rough, massive scar going down his entire torso, a stark contrast to his naturally pale skin. He kind of loves it though, if he’s honest, and he thinks Kihyun will love it too and, dare he say, find it incredibly sexy. As Hoseok packs his things and prepares to leave, his yukata loose and open at the chest to give his wound some fresh air, he allows himself to fantasize, allows his mind to wander and imagine how Kihyun will react to seeing it. 

He grins at the thought of Kihyun swooning over him for being so strong and brave, Kihyun running his fingertips up and down the lines of the scar, all the way from Hoseok’s shoulder down to Hoseok’s pelvis, while they lie beside each other, naked under a pile of blankets together, Kihyun curled in Hoseok’s arms and his cheek pillowed on Hoseok’s chest. Hoseok’s mind goes further, and he imagines Kihyun lying on his stomach on top of Hoseok post-coital, kissing the scar while Hoseok runs his hands through Kihyun’s soft hair and then down the warm skin of his dainty back, down to squeeze at the round globes of Kihyun’s cute little ass, Kihyun’s entrance still warm and tender from Hoseok being inside of him. Hoseok blushes furiously at that, shaking his head at himself because he knows it’s not appropriate to think these thoughts, not yet. But yes, Hoseok loves this scar, he loves it, a reminder of all that he’s been through, a reminder of who he is, a reminder of what got him to Kihyun in the first place. 

On his way out, Hoseok thanks that first medic who had seemed so nervous and unprepared for dealing with him, giving the medic a bright smile and shaking his hand firmly, because the poor boy had done his best and it had been good enough, so Hoseok can’t say he isn’t immensely thankful. As he’s being officially discharged, he’s given back his armor and sword, all cleaned and repaired and, while not exactly like new, definitely in much better shape than they were when he was carried in here, no longer caked in layers of blood and dirt. He’s surprised, and quite touched, that someone, one of the comrades who had carried him here, had thought to pick up his sword on the battlefield and bring it with him. A samurai’s sword is an extension of himself, after all, and Hoseok would’ve been heartbroken if he had lost his faithful weapon that had seen so many battles in the years since he first picked it up. 

Hoseok’s first major decision to make is where to go from here, and he decides to head for the nearest village a few hours away rather than go all the way back to his home village on the other side of the country. Hoseok thinks that he’ll have the best chance at getting some information from a village close to the thick of the fighting about what’s going on with the high-profile military and political families, who are likely to be stationed nearby until the war is good and over. 

And so, he climbs aboard the covered horse-drawn wagon set for the nearest village along with six or seven other soldiers, others cleared to leave who have nowhere else to go, either because their homes were destroyed in the fighting or they never had homes in the first place, many of Hoseok’s fellow soldiers arising from life on the streets. 

The ride in the wagon is bumpy and slow along dirt roads lined with wide stretches of flat countryside, the others chatting quietly or dozing inside the covered section of the wagon while Hoseok sits on the rear edge so that he can watch the world go by as they drive, the battlefield, the medical tents, all of the structures of war growing smaller and smaller as they roll along on creaky wheels. He’s got some clothes and his armor tied in a neat bundle beside him, and the medics had given him clean sandles to wear, but he’s taken them off to dangle his bare feet over the edge of the wagon as he leans back on his palms and enjoys the fresh air on his bare skin, his yukata still loosened on top so that most of his chest is exposed. 

The fireflies start to come out as the late afternoon transitions to evening and the sky starts to grow dark, the air warm and dry instead of hot and humid for the first time in months. Summer is almost over, and Hoseok smiles, closing his eyes and leaning back further as he breathes in the wonderful, sweet-smelling air of the countryside after spending so much time stuck inside a tent. 

He thinks that he would love to take Kihyun out for a picnic in one of these grassy fields, all butterflies and chirping birds and gentle sunlight, or out for a long midnight walk under a beautiful open sky filled with stars and the scent of flowers blowing in the breeze. The royals aren’t exactly known for adventuring in the outdoors, and as a street kid who had spent most of his childhood roaming outside, Hoseok knows of many wonderful places that he’d like to show Kihyun, places that he hopes they can go together someday. 

When they finally arrive at the village just after sunset, the sky has turned deep violet and Hoseok is exhausted. Even though he had spent most of the day sitting up in the wagon, this is more activity than he’s done in weeks, the longest he’s been awake since he was injured, and as the wagon unceremoniously drops them off in the middle of the village square before departing back to the battlefield stations, he finds himself standing there in the middle of the street, his belongings heavy in his arms, and decides his first priority is to find a place to stay for the night, and probably many additional nights until he can figure out what to do next. 

The village is small but due to its strategic location, quite busy and active, filled with travelers and drifters from all parts of the country. This is just the kind of place, an in-between kind of place, for those at a crossroads in life looking for somewhere to stay while they sort things out, or somewhere to die quietly alone if they never do. There aren’t many houses, but there are plenty of taverns, shops, and inns in sight, all still open for the evening and busy, the whole village alight with the glow of lanterns and the sounds of music in the air, other wagons and horses going in and going out in what looks to be a steady stream of hustle and bustle on the dusty dirt roads. It’s a bit run-down and noisy, crowded and rough, but otherwise, it’s just like any other village that Hoseok has ever seen in his travels, though it’s much different than the sleepy, quiet little village that he grew up in himself. 

After wandering for a while, Hoseok finally finds a suitable place for him to stay, a combination inn and tavern on the edge of the village run by an exceedingly kind elderly couple, a place where accommodation can be given in exchange for work instead of money, a place meant for those like Hoseok with nothing to their name but in need of shelter and three square meals a day. It’s a tiny but cozy place, very comfortable and safe, and the couple is all too happy to help Hoseok out in his time of need, all too happy to provide for a young soldier trying to get back on his feet from off of the battlefield. Hoseok thanks them graciously and agrees to any task that they require of him, though they are a bit disappointed to hear that he can’t do any heavy lifting with those big muscles of his just yet, not until he’s healed for a few more weeks. 

The couple reminds Hoseok of his own mother, and yet again, he finds himself thinking about her, and feeling horribly guilty that he isn’t immediately returning to his own village to see her, guilty because it’s been so long since he was last home, and guilty because he even has the option when so many others don’t, either because they had always been orphans or their homes had been destroyed or their families killed during the war. 

But he knows that his mother would understand and would forgive him, and anyway, he plans to write her a letter as soon as he settles in to let her know that he’s alright and to check up on her, and he hopes that he can introduce her to Kihyun someday. He knows that she would love Kihyun like he was her own son, and Hoseok is amused at the thought of his mother fawning over Kihyun, pinching his cheeks and spoiling him, and how Kihyun would love how even though he’s a prince, Hoseok’s mother wouldn’t treat him any differently, would expect him to help out around the house and do everything that Hoseok would be expected to do. Hoseok thinks that Kihyun would appreciate it immensely, being treated like a person instead of an asset, or a liability. 

Hoseok’s room two floors above the tavern is small and a bit run-down, but it’s clean and quiet and comfortable, with a large bed and a large window, and it even includes a small washroom and a closet for his belongings. All he has is a few sets of clothing given to him by the medics, his sword, and his armor, and so he has to borrow other necessities from the couple’s own stock with the promise to repay them as soon as he can, because he guesses he’ll probably be here for quite a while. He doesn’t anticipate that this will be an easy task, not at all, but Hoseok thinks that he’ll be able to pick up some word soon enough about where to start looking for Kihyun, anticipates that a runaway prince disguising himself as a medic is sure to be a much-discussed topic in an active, bustling village like this. 

A while later, after he’s all settled in and has had the chance to bathe and change into fresh clothes, he has his first full meal in weeks downstairs in the tavern, busy with dozens of other guests, and while everyone else is rowdy and jubilant with music and laughter, Hoseok keeps to himself in a corner, preferring to eat and drink alone in silence as he pretends to be deep in thought. What he's really doing is eavesdropping on the conversations, especially from the locals, hoping to hear something, anything that might give him a lead on where to start looking. He drinks his strong, bitter tea slowly and keeps his eyes down so as not to draw suspicion, sits there still as a statue for hours as customers come in and out throughout the night. 

But unfortunately, Hoseok returns to his room without success on that first night, having only heard bits of meaningless local gossip and drunken war stories from fellow soldiers, and it’s with a heavy heart and disappointment that he shuts his door and blows out the lantern in his room, determined to get a good night’s sleep and try again tomorrow with the plan to ask around all over the village. He strips naked to sleep and folds his clothes neatly, placing them on a shelf in the closet to be worn again tomorrow. 

There’s a mirror in his room, and as he’s pulling back the covers to his bed, he gets his first full look at his wound in the moonlight coming in from the open window. He stands there, completely bare and open, his body strong and powerful even after everything that he’s been through, but his eyes looking tired and worn-down, exhausted. The cool night air caresses his bare skin like a lover’s touch, and he runs his fingertips along his scar gently, thinking about everything that had happened. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but he still feels a shiver run up his spine when he touches it, the mark of his closest brush with death yet. From there, he gets into bed, pulling the thin covers over his body and lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

As he lies there, he aches for Kihyun, wishes that Kihyun could be there with him. And he dreams of Kihyun, too, again. Over and over again. Always Kihyun. Only Kihyun. 

Two weeks pass, and Hoseok still has no leads. 

He’s been through every house, tavern, shop, every square inch of the village, swears he’s spoken to everyone at least twice, and still nobody seems to have any information that’s helpful to him. To make matters worse, much of his time is occupied by working for the old couple to help run the inn and tavern—he has to earn his keep, after all—and when he’s not hitting dead end after dead end in his search for Kihyun, he’s carrying heavy boxes and performing difficult manual labor now that his wound has healed, as well as helping to clean and to prepare food and to keep up with guests, and while he’s certainly doing much better physically than he was when he got here, it’s no easy life, and he goes to bed exhausted and disappointed every night, still with nothing to show for all of his hard work and desperate searching. 

He’s growing restless and frustrated, running out of options and ideas, and Kihyun’s face is growing blurry in his mind as he finds it increasingly difficult to remember all of the little details from just their brief time together. Soon, all Hoseok really has left is the feeling, the feeling he feels when he thinks of Kihyun, a feeling he could never possibly forget, a feeling that’s etched into his soul. But it’s only when he begins to make preparations to leave this village and set off for another (trying to figure out where he can borrow a horse and stocking up on extra food and supplies for a long journey to wherever is next on the route away from the battlefield) that he finally gets the lead that he’s been waiting for. 

It's late in the afternoon and he had been helping to bring in a new shipment of expensive alcohol for the tavern from a wagon full of heavy wooden crates that had been riding for months and had crossed the sea from a distant land on a large ship, when he overhears where the wagon will be heading next tonight with the remainder of its stock, about a dozen or so additional boxes. It’s going to a royal household on the outskirts of another villages a few miles away from here, the shogun’s wartime residence, and there’s going to be a celebration because the princess is finally betrothed, her marriage helping to strengthen an important military alliance, something about a stronghold against rebel forces who oppose the shogun and are looking to take control of this part of the country. 

And as he always does whenever he catches gossip about important families, which of course happens often amongst commoners and workers in the village, Hoseok makes sure to listen carefully as he helps them to unload several of the boxes for the tavern, doing his best to do his job while not aggravating his injury or drawing any unwanted attention to himself. The boxes are made of sturdy wood, slightly damp from coming in on a boat, and as Hoseok gets a peek inside one of them, he sees that the glass bottles holding the drinks are huge, each the size of a small child, and the smell is strong and sharp enough to come through even though the bottles are all sealed shut. It’s good stuff, the kind of alcohol enjoyed on a happy occasion, a celebration like they had said. He smiles a little to himself, imagining what it would be like to share a fancy drink like this with Kihyun, to have Kihyun pour him a cup of this absurdly expensive sake. 

The traders ignore Hoseok as they keep talking, and they spill so much important information that Hoseok nearly walks backwards into a wooden beam, he’s so focused on what they’re saying. They mention that the princess has always been the shogun’s favorite and will probably be the one to produce the shogun’s heir, that the betrothal is a huge deal, and there will be high political and military figures coming from everywhere for the celebration. The shogun has a son, too, but the shogun’s son is a troublemaker and likely won’t get married at all. He’s never done what he was supposed to do, has never cooperated with his duties, one of the traders mentions, and he even ran away, snuck off to the military and posed as a medic for a while, until he was caught and brought back home. 

And that’s all that Hoseok needs to hear to know where he’s going next. His heart races, his mind moving a million miles an hour, and then, without even thinking about it, without hesitation, he decides to do something crazy. 

He helps the traders to unload the rest of the alcohol for the tavern, but lingers off to the side while the traders talk to the elderly couple about arranging the next shipment, and when he’s sure that nobody is looking, Hoseok quietly slinks through the shadows and slips into the back of the wagon, hiding himself behind the stacked crates of alcohol on their way to the shogun’s wartime residence, adrenaline racing through his veins as he ducks down low so that he won’t be seen if they decide to check in the back here for some reason. 

And he can’t think straight; it’s like his mind is bombarding him with a thousand different thoughts and feelings all at once, and he doesn’t know where to even begin. He feels elated, giddy, frantic, in disbelief, shaking inside and out because his salvation has finally come, and from such an unexpected place, and if what he had heard is indeed true, then it means that Kihyun is the shogun’s son, and that this creaky wagon that reeks of alcohol will take Hoseok right to him. And Hoseok doesn’t even have his sword with him, he left it back in his room, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t anticipate a fight, and more importantly, this is _it_ , this is his chance to find Kihyun. He would laugh out loud from joy if he could, but he can’t risk exposing himself, not when he’s this close to everything that he’s been searching for. 

He stays absolutely silent, careful to keep even his breathing inaudible as he hears the traders going back around to the front of the wagon to ready the horses to set off, and Hoseok knows that he won’t have much time when he gets there. The elderly couple will notice his absence if he’s not back by tomorrow night, and he doesn’t want anyone to suspect where he’s gone off to, lest his relationship with Kihyun be exposed and both of them be put in danger. The traders had said that this shipment was getting there tonight, which means that the shogun’s residence can’t be more than a few hours away, since it’s already twilight. And Hoseok feels like he could cry, that Kihyun has been so close this entire time. He wishes he had thought to set off sooner rather than waiting for the opportunity to come to him. It was a mistake, but at least now, he’s finally been given the chance and he can take it. 

Hoseok stays completely still and silent in the back of the wagon as it rolls through the countryside, not even daring to open the back flaps of the cover to get a glimpse of the night sky as they continue on. They don’t make any stops along the way and Hoseok counts that as very fortunate; he’s a big guy, and he can’t exactly hide very well if the traders were to start poking around and moving boxes back here. With no other way to keep track of where they’re going, he closes his eyes and focuses, pays close attention to how the wagon is moving from sound and feeling alone, noting when it turns, approximately how long it goes in each direction, using the sharp senses that he’s developed over the years as a warrior to chart a path in his head so that he can make his way to the shogun’s residence and back again if needed. 

It’s when the road starts to feel smoother and the wagon begins to slow down, the traders starting to grow quiet in their chatter, that Hoseok knows that they must be arriving and that it’s finally time to make his escape. He hears the sound of an old, creaky gate opening, what must be the entrance to the shogun’s residence, and Hoseok still hasn’t quite processed everything that’s happening, the fact that he’ll be seeing Kihyun again soon. It’s all progressed way too quickly, too much happening at once after weeks and weeks of nothing, and the truth is, he won’t believe it, won’t _really_ believe it until he sees Kihyun with his own eyes. 

As the wagon slows to a gentle, easy roll, slower than a walking pace, Hoseok figures that they must have entered the property, and his guess is confirmed when he hears the clank of the gates closing behind them and the sound of guards shouting at each other and to the traders about where to unload the shipment. His heart pounding, Hoseok carefully makes his way through the stacks of boxes and out of the back of the wagon onto the ground outside within a few seconds, not allowing himself even a moment to hesitate, before moving quickly and quietly into a nearby patch of bushes to hide in. It’s a cool night, and there’s a slight chill, a slight bit of electricity in the air that warns that a storm is coming. It’s windy, too, which Hoseok is very thankful for, the rustling of the leaves as well as the activity going on around him helping to mask any noise that he makes as he adjusts in the bushes and finally looks out to his surroundings. 

This is definitely the shogun’s residence without a doubt. It’s a traditional Japanese house, only one level with sliding paper doors and a raised wooden platform all along the outer edges, simple, no fuss or embellishments, befitting a serious military family, but it’s _huge_ , _enormous_ , with many different corridors and wings all intersecting and stretching out in seemingly every direction, so many different rooms and hallways that Hoseok can’t even see where the structure begins and ends from where he is, or if it even _does_ end. Most of the house is lit up with activity inside, and he can see shapes and shadows moving around in the glow of lanterns behind the paper sliding doors. He figures there must be dozens of people conducting military business inside, other important military officers and their families staying close to the shogun for the remainder of wartime. 

There are dozens of guards, too, stationed at what seems like every doorway, completely surrounding the house, and Hoseok realizes then how fortunate he was that none of them had noticed him slipping out of the back of the wagon, because by all logic, he should’ve been seen by at least one of them, there are so many. But then again, Hoseok is wearing dark clothing, and the traders are loud and causing a commotion as they prepare to unload the alcohol, so more than luck, it seems that Hoseok had made the right choice to sneak onboard with visitors who were likely to give him good cover with their ruckus. 

Hoseok can see now that the patch of bushes that he’s currently hiding in is at the edge of the residence garden, equally enormous beside the house and stunningly beautiful even in darkness. It’s all soft, deep green grass and smooth stone walkways, and there’s a gorgeous pond right in the center, the water still and crystal-clear, sparkling under the night sky and the glow of the stars, the whole garden and pond lined by colorful flowers and tall cherry blossom trees in full summer bloom, fireflies and butterflies fluttering about in the moonlight, the surface of the pond decorated with fallen flower petals and the air sweet with their scent. Hoseok can’t believe what he’s seeing, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a lovely garden, and for a few long moments, he just sits there admiring it in awe. 

Just past the front gate, the wagon is parked and the traders have stepped off of their horses. They’re now talking to what appear to be the shogun’s advisors while some of the guards have begun to unload the crates of alcohol and bring them inside the house, and with the traders and the guards and the officials all distracted, Hoseok takes the opportunity to sneak around stealthily through the garden, closer and closer to the house itself, his footsteps silent in the soft grass, and he muses to himself that maybe if he wasn’t such a big guy with such a hot temper and wild, rebellious streak, he could’ve made a decent shinobi. 

He takes a moment to catch his breath, careful to breathe slowly and stay quiet as he hides behind one of the thicker cherry blossom trees, and he looks out all around, out to all of the guards and all of the possible points of entry into the house, his moment of bemusement giving way to unease, because if he could do it, if he could sneak around here so easily, it means that anyone could, it means that real shinobi with nefarious intentions _certainly_ could, which means that if Kihyun is indeed here, he’s not as safe or well-guarded as he should be, and the thought makes Hoseok frown to himself as he lets his gaze wander over the entirety of the house. It’s cloudy and dark so it’s difficult to see everything that’s happening, especially as the traders go inside the house and shut the sliding paper door almost closed behind them, cutting off most of Hoseok’s light, and Hoseok stays completely still, not sure if he should risk moving when the traders could come back outside at any second and expose him. 

And his heart is beating so fast that it’s painful, and it’s even more painful to control his breathing so that he doesn’t make a sound, to stay completely still so that he can’t be seen, the effort requiring all of his energy as his mind works through a thousand different scenarios about what could happen next. 

He wonders if he should stake out here, stay behind this tree until he’s sure that everyone inside has gone to sleep, but even then, there will still be guards along the outside, and so he’ll have to wait until they’re distracted by changing shifts, if they even do change shifts. The royal guard are known for being steadfast and strong, so it would not surprise Hoseok if they were expected to stand guard all night without rest. Furthermore, who’s to say that the shogun’s advisors and officials are planning to sleep tonight. For all Hoseok knows, they’re planning to talk strategy into the early hours of the morning. No, Hoseok can’t just wait here, he’d be waiting forever. He has to come up with a plan to get inside, but how? 

And Hoseok is so lost in thought for such a long time, not really paying attention and staring off into space at one of the paper doors closest to him, that when the door suddenly slides open and the garden is flooded with light, he nearly yells in surprise, and he instinctively ducks behind the tree, completely concealing himself, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing to keep himself quiet even though all he can hear now is his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that it sounds like the boom of war cannons. He takes back what he had thought before; he’d be a terrible shinobi, maybe the worst shinobi ever. 

Hoseok waits a few moments to calm down, breathing heavily with his lips pressed tight, before opening his eyes again and turning around slowly. He’s not sure what's come over him, but it’s something powerful, an unseen force that’s moving him, like he’s not in control of his own body anymore, like he physically can’t stop himself from looking to see who it is even though it may be the stupidest thing he’s ever done. And then, Hoseok’s heart really does stop, and it’s like the whole world stops with him, because as the guards in front of the sliding door step aside, a figure steps out onto the wooden platform from inside the house, and Hoseok recognizes him instantly. 

It’s Kihyun. It’s his little prince, the one he’s been yearning for all these weeks. And Hoseok’s done it, he’s found him. 

Kihyun is dressed in beautiful, luxurious silks, what appears to be a yukata for sleep wrapped around his dainty little body, the fabric soft pink with a swirling flower pattern, his feet bare, and he’s holding a lantern out in front of him, like he’s just been roused from sleep and is coming outside to check on the commotion. His hair looks soft and slightly messy, and his face is glowing, pale and smooth with not a mark, shadow, or dark circle to be found. He looks well-rested and well-fed, clean and cared for, delicate and graceful like a porcelain doll come to life, and Hoseok is frozen in place, his heart soaring, because like this, in his element as a prince, Kihyun is so, _so_ beautiful, he’s like a work of art, like a painted figure from one of the woodblock prints that Hoseok has seen artisans selling for a high price to foreign travelers. Kihyun looks around, out at the garden, over to the wagon where the guards are busy unloading the alcohol, his eyes catching the moonlight and sparkling, and again, Hoseok thinks that Kihyun must be some kind of spirit or deity, because there’s no way that any human being could be this _perfect_. 

Hoseok can feel himself shaking, he’s so happy to see Kihyun. After so long, after all of the weeks of anxiety and fear and heartache and the near unbearable longing, suddenly, Kihyun is right here, right in front of him, and looking even more beautiful than Hoseok remembers. And all Hoseok wants is to run to him and pull him into his arms, hold Kihyun tight and never let him go, stay by his side forever and protect him from all of the cruelties and dangers of the world so that he only knows peace and happiness. And he also wants to tell Kihyun everything, spill every drop of his heart out to him, how much he missed him, how Kihyun was the only thing that got him through his recovery, that he thinks he might be in love with him, that he thinks they might be written in the stars to be together. 

Hoseok is stunned by Kihyun, has never felt like this before, the feeling building and bundling inside of him, condensing down deep and intense like he’ll explode from it, and Hoseok is so drawn to him, like a moth to the flame, that he’s completely helpless to resist the light of Kihyun’s glow, so pulled in to Kihyun’s orbit beyond all thought and reason, that he’s pushed once more by that unseen but unshakable force as he excitedly emerges from the garden and rushes towards the house, Hoseok calling out Kihyun’s name over and over again with exuberance, half-laughing in joy as he shouts, tears welling up in his eyes and his whole body surging with warmth as his feet and his legs move entirely on their own. 

“Kihyun!” he shouts, his voice resounding loud and deep through the night as he runs to the house, fireflies fluttering away from him in his sudden rush of activity. 

It’s then that Kihyun spots him, and Kihyun’s eyes go wide as they lock with Hoseok’s. It’s the same look that he had had in his eyes when the royal guard had found him in the medical tent, Hoseok will never forget it. Shocked and terrified, a look that should make Hoseok’s blood run cold, but he’s so happy to see Kihyun that it doesn’t even matter, and Hoseok is transfixed, hypnotized, lost in the depths of Kihyun’s beauty, and for a brief moment, Kihyun looks like he might cry too, something beautiful and intense clouding over his gaze and his expression completely open and vulnerable. 

But before Hoseok can reach the house, he’s suddenly being restrained from behind and from both sides by the guards who have swarmed all around him. He struggles and puts up a hell of a fight even with six different men holding on to him, but only because he wants to move forward to run to Kihyun, and he’s still shouting Kihyun’s name as Kihyun gapes at him with his lips parted and his eyes still wide, gone completely still like he’s turned to stone. 

“Please, Kihyun!” Hoseok pleads, trying desperately to pull away from the guards but still looking right into Kihyun’s eyes, right into Kihyun’s soul, it feels like. And Kihyun is still looking right at him with that fully open, fully emotional expression, until something changes, as if a shade is being pulled down over Kihyun’s face, and he sucks in a breath and looks away as Hoseok continues to plead, “Kihyun! Kihyun!” 

The guard behind Hoseok, holding Hoseok’s arms behind his back, shouts out over Hoseok’s shoulder, pulling his arms in tighter and more roughly. “Young master, do you know this man?” the guard shouts with a harsh, hoarse voice at Kihyun, and Hoseok looks up at his prince hopefully, Hoseok’s eyes bright and shining, Hoseok’s heart feeling like it’ll burst. Kihyun doesn’t say anything, just looks down at the ground for a long, long moment in silence, staring, unblinking, unmoving, as Hoseok continues to struggle, desperate to break free. 

“Kihyun!” Hoseok shouts again, and it’s then that one of the guards slaps a rough hand over his mouth, so hard that Hoseok can’t breathe, his cries muffled, and Hoseok swears he sees a flash of tears shine in Kihyun’s eyes, but it might just be the moonlight, or it might just be wishful thinking, and Hoseok stares at Kihyun completely still and silent, pleading now with only his eyes and unable to move or speak. 

Kihyun doesn’t say anything or do anything, and with each second that passes, Hoseok’s heart beats and beats and beats, pounds like an ominous drum in his own head, the seconds seeming to stretch on far too long. Something isn’t right, Hoseok can feel it, can feel the shift in the air as Kihyun lets out a sigh, Hoseok’s heart dropping down to his stomach. 

“I don’t know who this man is,” Kihyun says, finally, his voice calm and severe, and Hoseok’s heart shatters in an instant. Kihyun doesn’t move or look up, and Hoseok is too shocked to do anything but stare straight ahead at him with what feels like his soul ripped in half. 

“Escort him back to the front gate to the traders’ wagon, he must be one of theirs,” Kihyun says. “They can take him back to the village on their return route.” And with that, Kihyun turns away and goes back inside the house without another word, sliding the door shut behind him. 

Hoseok is still restrained, but he wouldn’t be able to move even if he wasn’t. He feels like he’s been stabbed right through the heart, more than once, like his chest has been ripped open. He goes limp in the guards’ arms, unable to even hold up his own weight anymore, his eyes wide and shaking, hot tears rolling down his cheeks every time he blinks. He can’t believe it. He can’t believe what just happened, and how quickly his entire world had just fallen apart. Just as seeing Kihyun after all of this time had felt unreal, this, too, feels unreal, like it’s happening to someone else. 

After everything that he’s been through to get here, to have it all end like this, it feels like a nightmare, like one of the many that he’s had since Kihyun was so cruelly taken away from him. Only this time, it’s much, much worse, because this time, he’s not waking up. 

As he’s roughly handled by the guards, Hoseok pours through everything that had just happened. He knows that Kihyun recognized him, that much was obvious. How could he not after the time that they had spent together? And Hoseok had known that there was a possibility that Kihyun would reject him and send him on his way, and he had even told himself time and time again that all that mattered was that Kihyun was safe, but he hadn’t thought that it would actually happen, not really. And it actually happening, and like this, so cold and so sudden, so brutal and so cruel, it’s the worst thing that Hoseok has ever experienced, all that he had been hoping for gone up in smoke like it was never even there, like what he and Kihyun had had really meant nothing. 

Kihyun is here, but Kihyun doesn’t want him. Hoseok was alone in this after all, it seems. He’s always been alone. 

He’ll always _be_ alone. 

The guards bark orders to each other about what to do with him as they continue to hold him hostage, but Hoseok isn’t listening. He wishes that he could die, he hopes that they decide to kill him, because he doesn’t think he even has the energy left to do it himself. But instead, the biggest one, one whom Hoseok now recognizes as the one from the medical tent who had made him feel uneasy just by his presence, is speaking in a gruff, commanding voice. He thinks that Hoseok is suspicious, he thinks that Hoseok could be a spy, he wants to keep him for questioning, and Hoseok doesn’t resist as they drag him away, his body now just a bruised, battered shell holding what’s left of him inside in a million tiny, broken pieces. 

He’s pulled away somewhere, he doesn’t know where, and he doesn’t care, either, just lets them take him wherever, even when “wherever” turns out to be past the gates and out into the forest, down a winding path into the darkness and then underground to a dungeon for prisoners of war. Kihyun is safe, Kihyun is whole and well and good, but Hoseok, Hoseok was already hanging by a thread, barely held together even before he had been scraped off of the battlefield and stitched up by soft, beautiful hands, hands he still loves even now, even when they’ve squeezed around his heart and choked the life out of him. Hoseok had long ago been chewed up and spit out by a world too cruel and too dark, had now made the mistake of thinking that he had found someone who could make him whole again. 

And now, Hoseok is crushed into dust.


	3. Chapter 3

Hoseok doesn’t sleep at all that night. In fact, he doesn’t do much of anything. 

After he’s taken away by the royal guards out into the forest, then underground into the dungeons, he’s roughly thrown down onto the dirt floor of a filthy, cramped cell, left there to be questioned tomorrow, too exhausted to even bother to protest or to fight it. The metal door is slammed closed and locked, and the guards leave, hollering insults and crude remarks on their way out, about what they do to spies and traitors, but of course, Hoseok doesn’t hear any of it, and even after they’re long gone, Hoseok still doesn’t move. 

He just lies there, his cheek pressed to the cold, hard ground, his body curled up in the dirt, Hoseok silent and motionless for a long, long time. His eyes are half-closed as he stares off into space at nothing, his vision losing focus and his body going numb, and he’s too exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally–to even sit up. The guards haven’t left him any food or water or anything, either, just grime and filth and the crushing weight of his own failures. 

The air around him is stuffy and musty, highly unpleasant, and he feels like he can barely breathe, like dirt and dust are coating his throat down to his lungs, growing thicker with each shaking, wheezing breath, like he’s choking himself even as he just lies here, but he can’t find the strength to even cough and so his eyes water at the edges as his breathing grows weaker and weaker and weaker along with the rest of him. 

The dungeon is almost completely dark, too, not just because it’s underground, but also because all of the other cells are empty, Hoseok the only prisoner and his tiny cell lit by just a single lantern hanging in the corner, and it’s silent, oppressively silent, all noise from outside, from the surface, muffled and sealed away by the dungeon’s closed doors at the top of the steep climb of rickety stairs that they descended to get here. 

And in this way, Hoseok is left completely and utterly alone with his thoughts, or rather, with the low buzzing and the dull pounding inside of his head where thoughts should be as he just keeps lying there, unable and unwilling to move or to do anything. He knows very well that “questioning” means that he’ll be tortured for information, and for something that he has absolutely nothing to do with, no less, but he can’t bring himself to care or to fight for his freedom when the time comes. And really, it’s not like it could be any worse than what just happened to him. 

All he can see dancing in front of his eyes over and over again, like he’s already died and his punishment for all of his wrongdoings is being trapped in that awful moment forever, is Kihyun standing on the wooden platform in shock, recognizing him (Hoseok knows that he recognized him) and coldly turning around, sending Hoseok away without another word or glance or anything at all. 

And Hoseok doesn’t know how long that he lies there, wallowing in his own self-pity. He can’t even cry, even with the intense pressure pushing at the backs of his eyes and the excruciating ache coiling in his head and growing worse by the moment. All that’s there is an empty chasm, threatening to swallow him whole from the inside out. 

And sure, he knows he’s being dramatic, knows that surely, he’ll get over this with time, he’ll move on, he’ll keeping going just like he always has, when life takes and takes and takes from him until it feels like there’s nothing left for him to possibly lose. Maybe he’ll find someone else, even, just to ease the pain, to make him stop thinking about those beautiful eyes and that soft, gentle touch, at least for a little while. 

And no matter how bad things get, and even if he feels like he doesn’t want to go on anymore, even if everything inside of him is screaming to end it all, end his suffering, when faced with the possibility like he is right now, he knows that it’s not a real option, it’s never a real option. He knows that he needs to keep going, and that he’ll always keep going, just to spite the cruel world, and because of his mother. As long as he can help it, he’ll always stay alive for her sake so that he can see her again someday. 

But the thing is, his life has been a mess since day one, and it _hurts_ , it cuts so deeply to think that he had finally found something worth living for, something to bring him true and lasting happiness, only to have it snatched away just when it was finally within his grasp. And the truth is, he can’t imagine anyone ever touching his heart the way that Kihyun did. It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, the connection that they had, Hoseok just knows it. He’s never felt such a strong pull towards anyone before, and it stings worse than the slash down his body ever did to think that it had all just slipped right through his fingers, and like everything else that’s ever happened to him, entirely of his own fault for being such a naïve, hopeless idiot. 

And even with his growing resignation that what had happened had happened and that there’s nothing that he can do about it, he wonders what the point is, what he can possibly do with himself now. He knows he was foolish, to fall so hard so quickly, to put his entire being on the line for another person whom he barely knew. He should’ve known better, and he feels terrible, thinking about all of the hearts he himself broke in the past, how he treated others like toys for his own amusement. He had never imagined that it could feel like this, that it could be so _physically_ painful, too. He really understands now why they call it a broken heart; he really does feel like his heart is being slowly ripped apart, piece by piece inside of his chest. 

The only comfort he has now is that Kihyun is safe, or at least, seems to be in good health and doing well. Even after being hurt so badly, Hoseok won’t stop caring about him, _can’t_ stop caring about him no matter how hard he tries, and it’s the only thing that keeps him from falling completely into despair. He can get over his own heartbreak, with time, the ache in his chest fading to another scar just like all the others. But he doesn’t think he’d ever be able to live with it if anything happened to Kihyun, especially if he could’ve done something to stop it. And the same goes for his mother, her and Kihyun the two people he cares about more than anything else. As long as they’re okay, even if they hate him, even if they don’t want him, Hoseok can go on. If not, well, he knows that that would be it, that would be his breaking point. 

And as the hours go on and he lies there unmoving, his body growing weak and weary from exhaustion and hunger and thirst, he begins to calm down, and he slowly remembers what’s important. His heart may be damaged, his first real love ended terribly for him, but it could’ve been much, much worse. At least he was the only one hurt by this, and it hurts now, it seems like the worst pain imaginable, but with time, he knows that he’ll be able to heal. He’s emotional and sensitive, loves too fiercely and opens himself up too willingly, but he’s also strong, extraordinarily so, and he’s resilient, always has been, and as he lies there and pours over his thoughts and feelings, it’s like his heart is repairing itself, messily stitching itself back together the best that it can. 

And in part, at least, he’ll do it for Kihyun, because Kihyun would want him to move on, Kihyun would want him to be happy. He thinks. Well, the Kihyun that he knew for those few days certainly would, but now, he’s not sure what to think anymore. The Kihyun that he had just encountered was so different from the one he was with in the medical tent, and Hoseok can’t say he’s sure which is the real thing anymore. Maybe everything that had happened, everything that he had thought about the two of them and their connection to each other, maybe it was all just his own wishful thinking. 

Maybe when Kihyun had saved him, Hoseok was just delirious, delusional, not thinking clearly. He had just escaped from an encounter with death, after all, and maybe he was just seeing something that was never even there, grasping desperately at something, anything to give him some meaning after so many years of struggling to find a reason to keep going when the world was always so hard and cruel. And Hoseok knows now that he was wrong, selfish and wrong to put that all on another person when they were his demons and his demons alone to fight off. It was never Kihyun’s fault, of course it wasn’t. It was his own, it _is_ his own, but he’ll learn from this. And Kihyun deserves better than him, anyway. Hoseok, he’s a mess, and Kihyun deserves someone whole and complete, someone who’s got their own problems sorted out and can be the guardian and protector that he needs. 

Hoseok calms down, breath by breath, moment by moment, finds himself all over again, until, eventually, everything seems a little less catastrophic and a little more manageable, and he’s able to settle on feeling like shit, but he thinks he can at least start moving again. He slowly pushes himself up to sit, his hair and his face and his clothes all caked in dirt and dust, his arms trembling from weakness, his mouth and throat dry and chalky, parched from thirst. He’s literally dying for some water, feels like he’s swallowed at least three mouthfuls of the dirt that he's sitting on. 

He carefully moves, then, scooching himself backwards until he’s sitting up against the stone wall on one side of his cell, leaning his head back against the wall and shutting his eyes with his knees bent in front of him, taking a few moments to rest, trying to work up the strength to stand up and see if he can figure a way out of here, to break the door or the lock or even the wall, and he moves so slowly, so weakly, it’s like his body is just now remembering how to function after being dead for centuries. 

It’s only when he hears someone coming down the stairs to the tunnels of the dungeon that his body finally reacts properly, like everything is snapping back to life in an instant. His heart pounds hard and fast, flooding his veins with adrenaline as his brain switches to high alert, and he lowers his head and sits up a bit straighter, his instincts going into survival mode, the fight or flight response. Well, for Hoseok, it’s always been “fight.” In this case, it’s probably just “endure it." _Survive it._

He figures that it’s the guards come to torture him, to “question” him. He had hoped to get out of here before that, had thought he’d have time until the morning, at least, but then again, there are no windows down here, and maybe he’s been wallowing for so long that it’s already the morning. He doesn’t know how long he’ll last like this, if he’ll even last at all. He’s definitely not sure that he can take a full beating in this state, not sure that he can endure any kind of physical beating after the emotional one that he just went through. All he’s really sure of is that if he makes it out of this alive, he’s taking a long, long rest. 

He takes a slow, deep breath, and he closes his eyes, waits for the rush of footsteps from the guards and waits for his door to be opened, waits for rough hands to grab him and to pull him to his knees. 

“Hoseok?” 

Instead, there’s a voice. Soft. Gentle. Familiar. 

Kihyun. 

Hoseok chuckles bitterly, because it’s obviously just his mind playing tricks on him. There’s probably nobody coming down the stairs at all and he’s just hearing things, and truthfully, he hadn’t thought to consider that his own mind could be so cruel to him. 

He leans back against the wall again and lets out a defeated sigh. His chest burns; he hadn’t realized that he was still hurting so much, and maybe he was kidding himself when he thought that he could move on so easily. Just like that, hearing Kihyun’s voice in his head, makes it feel like he’s right back where he started, like the wound is freshly torn open, and nowhere near done bleeding yet. 

“Hoseok...Hoseok...” 

And he had thought that he was stronger than this, that he was getting over it, he really had, but hearing Kihyun’s voice again, probably a side effect of his dehydration, it hurts. It really, _really_ hurts, maybe now even more than before. He feels tears welling up in his eyes as he sucks in a wet, shaky breath through his nose and gritted teeth, and it feels like he’s being stabbed in the throat with a million needles as he sighs and bites down into his lower lip. 

Hoseok is about to sob when he’s startled by the sound of someone rattling the bars of his cell, and he jumps a little in place like he’s been shocked with electricity, immediately lifting his head as his eyes shoot open to see a hooded figure dressed all in black at his cell door. 

“Hoseok!” the voice exclaims sharply. 

The figure removes their hood and Hoseok’s heart leaps. 

It’s Kihyun. 

And for one brief, shining moment, Hoseok is overwhelmed with joy, with pure, unbridled joy so intense that it feels like it’ll burst out of him. 

But then, he remembers that he hasn’t slept in well over twenty-four hours, is severely dehydrated, and is mentally and emotionally unstable and quickly spiraling out of his head, and he chuckles bitterly yet again, his heart clenching hard like it’ll squeeze the life out of him. 

Great. Now he’s seeing things too. 

And so, he just laughs quietly, hanging his head down, and the tears finally come, rolling hot down his cheeks as his shoulders tremble. 

“Hoseok, I know what you must be thinking,” Kihyun says. “But it’s me. I’m real.” 

Hoseok looks up then, seeing but still not quite believing, and as he blinks through wet eyes, the hallucination doesn’t fade away. In fact, it grows clearer and clearer as his head stops spinning and his vision comes back into focus, and Hoseok’s breath catches in his chest as he takes in the sight of Kihyun, here, _really_ here, and standing right in front him. 

And even like this, even here and now in this dreadful place, Kihyun looks _beautiful_. His soft hair is messy from being beneath the hood of his long, dark cloak, and he looks exhausted and so pale that his skin seems almost colorless, his pretty brown eyes puffy and red-rimmed, lined by dark, dark circles. It’s clear that he never went back to sleep after his reunion with Hoseok, and he’s frowning now, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. And even so, he’s the most beautiful thing that Hoseok has ever seen, and Hoseok feels like crying all over again as he looks into Kihyun’s eyes. 

Neither of them speak for a long time, and Kihyun hands Hoseok a canteen full of water, Hoseok gratefully drinking the entire thing in nearly one swallow, thinking somewhere in the back of his mind that Kihyun very well might have just saved his life for a third time. He returns the canteen to Kihyun once he's finished, but still can't bear to say anything just yet. 

He figures that Kihyun must be here to clear everything up, to ask what the heck Hoseok was doing coming all this way when they barely know each other, or maybe he’s here to explain why he pretended not to recognize him. Hoseok already knows why he did it; he was hoping to end things between them, to give Hoseok the much-needed wakeup call without a big, public mess in front of all of those guards, to make it clear that Hoseok had imagined the feelings, the connection between them, that Hoseok had just been wrong and confused, a broken man scraped off of the battlefield and stitched back together, and Hoseok can understand that, he can respect it. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. 

“I’m sorry that I came here,” Hoseok says, tears silently rolling down his dirt-stained cheeks. “You don’t have to explain anything, or feel guilty for turning away.” 

Hoseok can’t bring himself to look at Kihyun anymore, can’t bear the intensity of Kihyun’s gaze, and so he hangs his head, stares down at the dirt floor of his cell. 

“I was out of line,” Hoseok goes on. “I got caught up in a stupid fantasy and I thought things between us were different, but I realize now that I was just trying to see something that wasn’t there. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for intruding like this.” 

He closes his eyes, his eyelashes still wet with tears. “I hope you can forgive me,” Hoseok says. “And please...just forget about me. I just wanted to know that you were safe after they took you away. You looked so scared, I thought you were in trouble, and...” 

Hoseok sighs again, winces as he feels a fresh wave of grief course through him. 

“I missed you so much, I couldn’t bear it.” Hoseok says. “But I am sorry for everything, truly sorry. I misunderstood and it’s enough now just to know that you’re okay. You don’t owe me anything, Kihyun, and I still owe you everything.” 

He says all of this with his voice shaking, his head hanging down in shame, fat teardrops slipping past his closed eyes and falling to the dirt floor. It hurts so much more than just thinking about it did, actually having Kihyun here, so close and yet, out of his reach all the same. No, not out of his reach exactly, just...unwilling to take Hoseok’s hand reaching out for him. 

Kihyun doesn’t respond for a long time, and when he does, it’s only a soft murmur of Hoseok’s name followed by a long, quiet sigh. Hoseok braces himself for whatever Kihyun is going to say in response to his pathetic speech, knowing that whatever it is, his heart is only moments away from shattering completely. 

But then, to Hoseok’s surprise, Kihyun lowers himself down to sit on the dirty ground on the other side of Hoseok’s cell, just inches away from him, Hoseok looking up at the sound of his movements and watching him the entire time. Kihyun adjusts a little bit for a moment to get more comfortable sitting there on the ground, and when Hoseok looks at him, he still thinks that Kihyun is so impossibly beautiful, mesmerizing under the glow of the single lantern hanging in the corner. 

“Hoseok...” Kihyun starts, and as he and Hoseok meet eyes, Kihyun looks and sounds so tired, so sad that Hoseok’s heart shatters anyway. 

“I’ll be gone tomorrow,” Hoseok interrupts quickly, not wanting Kihyun to have to be the one to say it. “I won’t bother you anymore. I’m just glad to see that you’re doing well. 

There’s a long moment of silence between them as they just look into each other’s eyes, and Kihyun’s expression has a thousand different emotions, a hopeless tangle that Hoseok can’t even begin to unwind, Kihyun’s eyes an entire universe of their own, and if this is truly to be the last time that they see each other, Hoseok wants to take in as much detail as he possibly can, and so he doesn’t look away even when all he wants to do is to curl up into a ball and sob. 

Kihyun is the one who breaks the silence, his voice quiet and gentle. 

“Hoseok, no,” Kihyun murmurs. “You don’t understand. I’m the one who should be sorry.” 

Hoseok just chuckles again and finally breaks eye contact, looking back down at the floor with his hair damp with sweat and hanging back down in his face. Of course. Kihyun _would_ blame himself. He’s that kind of person, compassionate, virtuous. He wouldn’t think to place the blame on Hoseok even if on Hoseok is where the blame ought to be. 

“Kihyun...” Hoseok starts, voice low and weak. He’s on the verge of tears again. 

“Hoseok,” Kihyun interrupts, voice sharp but kind. “Please look at me. Just look at me.” 

Hoseok looks up again at Kihyun, and Kihyun’s gaze is so powerful that Hoseok feels it down to his bones. It makes him feel what Kihyun’s feeling, too, not just sadness, but a thick melancholy, a deep, deep sorrow. Hoseok feels the uncontrollable urge to move closer to Kihyun, and before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s doing just that. 

He moves slowly as Kihyun watches him with concerned eyes, moves until he’s resting on his knees right up against the front bars of the cell, Kihyun scooting closer to be right in front of him on the other side, sitting up to rest on his knees too. If it weren’t for the bars of the cell door, there’d be no space at all between them, both of them facing each other on their knees, and as Hoseok reaches to grip the bars and stare right into Kihyun’s eyes, Kihyun does the same, his hands right beneath Hoseok’s, Kihyun’s face so close that he’s all that Hoseok can see. And Hoseok is still such a fool for him, doing exactly what he asked without hesitation. 

“I had no idea that they would keep you here,” Kihyun says, and his voice is so sad that each word is like a knife to Hoseok’s heart. “This is a place for criminals. Spies. Prisoners.” 

Kihyun sighs and Hoseok wishes that he could reach out to stroke his face. It looks so soft even covered in a thin layer of dust just from being down here. 

“I thought I was protecting you by turning you away,” Kihyun goes on, and when he blinks, Hoseok is stunned to see that his eyes are wet with tears. 

“Hoseok, please understand,” Kihyun pleads. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. And if it was because of me, I...” 

Kihyun suddenly lets out a quiet sob, and then there are perfect, diamond tears rolling down his cheeks, and Hoseok immediately forgets everything else, forgets all of his own bullshit, forgets everything that had happened, because Kihyun is right here, and he’s _crying_ , and without even thinking about, Hoseok is reaching a hand through the bars to touch Kihyun’s cheek, to cup Kihyun’s face and stroke his thumb over Kihyun’s soft, warm skin. And Kihyun keeps looking right at him, leaning slightly into Hoseok’s palm and bringing one of his own hands up to rest there on top of it, and Hoseok is holding his breath, gripping tightly to the cell door with his other hand, so tightly that his knuckles have gone white. 

“Kihyun...” Hoseok murmurs, not sure what he’s trying to say, but all he wants is to comfort Kihyun. All he wants is for Kihyun to stop crying because the sight of Kihyun’s tears hurts more than anything else ever could. 

“I was so sad, thinking that I’d never see you again,” Kihyun says, his eyes slipping closed, his eyelashes dark and wet as tears silently spill down his cheeks, beautiful but heart-wrenching, and Hoseok has to consciously stop himself from reaching out his other hand to wipe them away. “But I was even more devastated when I saw you out in the garden, when I saw that you had gone through so much, had come all this way just to find me.” 

Hoseok closes his eyes then too, because here it comes again. The guilt. The shame. He had hurt Kihyun and put him through all of this because of his own stupidity. He doesn’t even think that he deserves forgiveness, because really, what the hell was he thinking, coming here, putting Kihyun in this position? He should’ve just gone home like he was supposed to, his time with Kihyun a fond but distant memory, destined to be nothing more, nothing less. A brief but sweet summer love, soon to be gone with the warm summer sun, exactly as it was meant to be. 

“I was relieved only after I went back inside from the garden, when I thought that you’d be able to leave and be safe, go back home to your village without any further trouble,” Kihyun goes on. “You wouldn’t get tangled up in the big mess of my life and my family. You don’t understand how my family is, Hoseok, it’s...” 

He pauses, then, and they both open their eyes to look at each other, Hoseok hanging on to Kihyun’s every word, just waiting for that final, inevitable blow. 

“It’s complicated, so complicated,” Kihyun says. “And I thought the safest thing for you would be to pretend that I didn’t know you. Because, Hoseok...” 

Kihyun pauses again, and the two of them just look at each other for a long moment in silence, Kihyun’s eyes darting around inside of Hoseok’s as if searching for something, though Hoseok has no idea what, or why Kihyun would need to search so hard. Hoseok is completely open for Kihyun, knows that he’s crystal-clear only for Kihyun, but Kihyun is much more complex, and Hoseok still feels like he’s staring into a stormy sky, some great cosmic storm, beautiful and powerful but clouded with mystery when he looks into Kihyun’s eyes. 

“You can’t be here, you shouldn’t be here,” Kihyun says, and in that moment, just for one, single moment, Hoseok sees him clearly, sees right into his soul as if he’s looking into a mirror. “But it’s not because I don’t want you here.” 

Kihyun squeezes Hoseok’s hand, then, and Hoseok is hit with so many emotions that he doesn’t know what to think or feel. He just feels confused and overwhelmed, and he wishes even more than before that there weren’t these bars between them, wishes they were free to touch so that he could pull Kihyun into his arms and hold him close, comfort him, because right now, Kihyun looks _fragile_. He’s not the steadfast, tenacious, sharp and bright medic that Hoseok had gotten to know and adore. He looks vulnerable right now, like a child, and all Hoseok wants is to protect him. 

“I do want you here,” Kihyun says, and he blinks once, twice, and more tears roll down his cheeks, Hoseok’s heart burning terribly. “More than anything, I want you here with me.” 

And then, something amazing happens. Kihyun smiles, a soft, sweet smile, small and simple and yet, even as small as it is, even in its tiny glimmers, it’s the first time since he got here that Hoseok feels something truly good, feels like Kihyun’s smile touches the deepest, darkest parts of him and lifts him up from falling into oblivion. It’s truly breathtaking to behold after so much seemingly endless despair, and Hoseok certainly loses his breath, forgetting everything terrible that he had been feeling up until this moment, only focused on Kihyun’s wonderful little smile. 

“I know we didn’t know each other for very long, but...” Kihyun starts, “I enjoyed our time together so much. When I left I...I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

Kihyun suddenly looks away, off into the distance with a look of fondness, nostalgia, and he lets out a sweet little laugh that has Hoseok smiling too, like he’s no longer in control of himself, his joy taking over, Kihyun’s joy taking over. Kihyun squeezes Hoseok hand again as he muses, as he reminisces. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Kihyun says, his voice so soft. “I thought about you every day. And at every moment, my heart ached, thinking about you back there in the tent without me. I worried about you. I prayed for you, every night.” 

Hoseok feels himself about to sob, because he can’t believe it. It seems too much to be true. He lets out another little chuckle, but this time, it’s born from happiness, from disbelief and shock, but happiness all the same, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks as they look deep into each other’s eyes again, smiling, as if they both just realized that they’re here together, reunited even with bars between them and difficult circumstances threatening to tear them apart before they know it. All of the emotional turmoil that Hoseok has been through, everything that he went through to get here to this spot, to this moment, Kihyun was sharing it too, the same feelings, the same yearning, the two of the exactly the same, one soul even with everything that had stood between them. 

Hoseok doesn’t reply to Kihyun’s heartfelt confession, but he knows that he doesn’t have to. Kihyun has had the same realization that Hoseok has had, that they’re the same and, of course, Hoseok coming all this way, doing everything in his power to find Kihyun...Hoseok’s actions said more than any words ever could. 

They gaze at each other in silence again, taking everything in, eyes shining, and Hoseok can see that Kihyun is thinking hard, thinking deeply, turning things over in his head. Hoseok, on the other hand, isn’t really thinking at all. He’s just _feeling_ it, the joy, the joy that he always knew that he’d feel when he got to see Kihyun again, because this is it, this is their _true_ reunion, not that moment in the garden. 

Kihyun sighs, and his hand still gripping onto one of the bars moves closer to Hoseok’s hand still gripping onto the same bar. “There are things that you don’t know, Hoseok,” Kihyun says. “About me. About us. I just...I had thought that there was no way it could work between us, even when we were still back at the medical tent. I thought for sure it would be temporary, that it was only a matter of time before something happened.” 

Kihyun sighs again, his gaze slipping back to the ground as his hand on the cell door moves to rest atop Hoseok’s hand on the cell door. “And then, the ‘something’ happened,” Kihyun goes on. “And I was resigned to it. I thought...it was nice, you were nice. I loved being with you. But it would never last, it would never happen, and I was ready to hold on to the time that we had together, lock it somewhere safe deep inside of my heart and move on. But then, you showed up here, and...” 

And now, Hoseok _really_ feels like he’ll start crying again, really crying, bawling. But that won’t be of any help to Kihyun at all, so instead, Hoseok releases his grip on the bars and slips out from beneath Kihyun’s hand, sliding his hand through the space, one hand still on Kihyun’s cheek and the other now reaching out for him. Kihyun takes it in his own, and they both lower their hands from Kihyun’s face, reaching to hold hands through the bars on the other side too, Hoseok giving both of Kihyun’s hands a gentle squeeze as Kihyun looks into Hoseok’s eyes fondly for a moment, then looks down again, smiling sadly. 

“I had such conflicted feelings,” Kihyun continues, and Hoseok’s heart is racing, Kihyun’s hands so warm and soft in his own, Hoseok able to feel Kihyun’s pulse at the center of his palms. “I was relieved and happy and shocked and terrified all at once to see you, but it all gave way to fear so quickly when I realized where we were and what was happening. It’s too dangerous for anyone to get close to me, especially...” 

“A soldier?” Hoseok offers, and Kihyun looks up at him, bashful and a little surprised, light pink dusting his cheeks. 

“Anyone who isn’t royalty, Hoseok,” Kihyun says. He smiles again. “I love that you’re a soldier. I love you exactly the way that you are.” 

Hoseok grins, his eyes wide and his heart skipping a beat as his face flushes, because he can’t believe what he just heard, and he lets out a soft chuckle. 

“You _love_ me?” he asks, smiling brightly. 

And at that, Kihyun sputters, his face going bright red and his eyes going wide and shocked, flustered, and Hoseok’s smile only gets bigger. “You know what I mean,” Kihyun says quickly, blushing profusely and warming Hoseok’s heart. “I certainly missed you, and I want to keep seeing you but...I...let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Hoseok.” 

“I’m not the one saying that they love me,” Hoseok says flirtatiously, narrowing his eyes. They release hands and Hoseok rests his own on his knees, Kihyun playing with his own hands nervously, looking down into his lap and blushing so hard that Hoseok can almost feel the heat coming off from his cheeks. 

“We only knew each other for a few days, Hoseok,” Kihyun murmurs. “And I’m not such an easy catch. I’m a prince, for goodness sake.” 

“I’m quite a catch too, if you’ll recall,” Hoseok quips, teasing. “You’ve seen me naked, surely you remember.” 

And as Hoseok laughs, Kihyun looks right at him again and his eyes go wide as he grins nervously, still blushing red, obviously remembering everything, all the flirting and the touches, _everything_. It seems that just as Hoseok had never stopped thinking about Kihyun’s beauty, Kihyun had certainly not forgotten about Hoseok’s own beauty either. A long moment passes before Kihyun’s eyes slip back down to his lap and he bunches the fabric of his black cloak in his fists. 

“We barely know each other, Hoseok,” Kihyun says again. “A few days...it’s not enough time to know if you love someone.” 

“I know that I love you,” Hoseok says. 

The confession comes out as easily as breathing, and Hoseok means every word of it. He’s known it for a while, since they were together at the medical tent, even. Kihyun looks into his eyes again, Kihyun’s eyes bright and clear, and Kihyun’s blush grows even deeper, so red that Hoseok worries for a brief moment that Kihyun might faint. Hoseok smiles softly, his eyes scrunching into crescents, because he loves it, Kihyun looking so flustered, his lips parted in surprise, and Kihyun lets out a little cough, attempting to brush it off, but Hoseok swears that he can hear Kihyun’s heart pounding hard and fast. 

“Life is short,” Hoseok goes on. “Who knows how much time we have left? I’m not gonna pretend I’m not already head over heels for you, Ki.” 

Hoseok’s expression grows serious, then, because he wants Kihyun to know that he’s serious, that he’s not just messing around, not just flirting or teasing this time, and Kihyun is still watching him with parted lips and wide eyes. 

“You can deny it all that you want,” Hoseok goes on. “But I know that there’s something, this _thing_ between us. I feel it right now. I can’t _stop_ feeling it. And you can call it whatever you want, but you wouldn’t be down here right now if you didn’t feel it too.” 

Kihyun’s eyes are shining and Hoseok just keeps looking at him, serious, waiting patiently as he sees Kihyun taking it all in. They were bold words, yes, but Hoseok has always been bold and honest, forthright, putting his heart into everything and out on his sleeves for the world to see, and Kihyun, well, Hoseok can’t say he’s ever had something worth being so bold for as Kihyun. 

Finally, after a few long moments of silence, Kihyun lets out another sigh, and he smiles at Hoseok again, small and gentle, but it’s so beautiful that it touches Hoseok’s heart like a loving caress on his cheek. 

“You _are_ important to me, Hoseok. That, I can’t deny,” Kihyun says. “I care about you, and I want you to be safe.” 

Kihyun looks down again, still smiling as he plays with his hands on his lap. “I love your strength and your bravery,” Kihyun says. “I think you’re an amazing person, the most amazing person I’ve ever met and...the fact that you came here...for me...I...I had no idea that you cared for me so much. I thought I was going crazy when I saw you there in the garden, and...” Kihyun trails off into silence, his blush returning to his cheeks, red like roses. 

“And?” Hoseok murmurs. 

Kihyun looks up again and smiles. “I want to keep seeing you,” Kihyun says. “I want to know you, truly know you, for more than just a few days. But we’ll have to be very careful.” 

Kihyun starts to stand up, brushing the dirt and dust off of himself, and Hoseok stands up too, grinning, because he can see the gears starting to turn in Kihyun’s mind. Hoseok stands up fully and grips onto the bars in front of him as he watches Kihyun with a steady gaze. “What do you mean?” Hoseok asks, though he already knows exactly what Kihyun means. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Kihyun says, looking up at Hoseok once he’s fully standing, and like this, standing inches apart with only the cell bars between them, Hoseok’s heart starts to race. It’s like they’re the only two people in the entire world at this moment, and Kihyun is only about an inch shorter than Hoseok, but _so_ much smaller, so delicate and dainty, so much like a soft, sweet little flower that Hoseok can’t bear it. He realizes then that this is the first time that they’ve stood face-to-face like this, and Hoseok takes in a deep breath, letting the realization wash over him for a moment as he looks into Kihyun’s eyes. 

“And then what?” Hoseok asks. He grins. “You’re gonna hide me in your closet?” 

Kihyun laughs softly. “I have a place that I can hide you, for the time being,” Kihyun says. “Just until I find a way for us to escape from here for good, somewhere they’ll never be able to find us.” 

Kihyun pauses again, clearly considering his words carefully. “I don’t want this life, I don’t want to be here,” he says. “I’ve been trying to escape for years. When I met you, it was the longest I had ever gone without being discovered, about three weeks. But they always find me, my stupid family always catches up with me. And when I heard that they were keeping you here, I knew that I had to come get you out, that you wouldn’t be safe here for long, just as I was never safe for long.” Kihyun looks so sad then that Hoseok finds his own smile faltering, slipping away at the heartbroken look in Kihyun’s eyes. 

“I thought that they would let you go,” Kihyun says. “But this...I know how they are. I’ve been dealing with them my whole life. They don’t really think that you’re a spy, Hoseok. They just want an excuse to torture someone, because they’re bored, because they can, because this whole war is a sham, a stupid squabble between prominent families who don’t care how many lives are destroyed from their petty, meaningless quarrels.” Kihyun looks down at his feet again, sad and scared, but determined, fierce. 

“I won’t let them hurt you,” Kihyun says, and his expression is so solemn, and all Hoseok wants is for him to smile again, because he hates seeing Kihyun like this. Worried, anxious, troubled. 

“Like they could do anything worse to me than what I’ve already done to myself,” Hoseok says, letting out a soft chuckle, urging Kihyun with his voice to look up at him again, and Kihyun does, eyes softened. 

“Joining the military in the low ranks isn’t exactly the best way to take care of yourself,” Hoseok goes on. “And chasing after someone I only knew for a few days, even after finding out that he was royalty? I’ve never been one to take the easy way out, that’s for sure. And your father’s really the shogun?” 

Kihyun is looking right into Hoseok’s eyes, and he sighs again. “Yes,” Kihyun says. “He’s very traditional in all of the expected ways, especially when it comes to my sister and I. She’s already got an arranged marriage that was decided before she was even born, and I’m sure he’s planning to sell me off to someone for some stupid alliance or a few thousand soldiers the next time that he gets the chance.” 

Kihyun lets out a sad little chuckle, tilting his head slightly as he looks at Hoseok, Hoseok looking right back at him. “I’m a prize, and a pawn. An asset to be sold, bought, and traded when it’s most convenient.” Kihyun says, plainly. 

They’re both quiet for a few long moments then, just looking at each other and letting the weight of Kihyun’s honest words hang between then, until Kihyun reaches for the bars of the cell again with one hand, holds onto one as Hoseok keeps looking at him and Kihyun’s gaze returns to the floor. 

“It breaks my heart to know that you’ve been through so much just to get here, Hoseok,” Kihyun says. “And I can’t even imagine all of the hardship that you’ve been through, the difficult life that you’ve led. And I just...I don’t know if I’m worth all of this.” 

Kihyun releases his grip on the cell door, and he curls in on himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest and unable to look at Hoseok, Hoseok’s heart in his throat. “You have freedom,” Kihyun murmurs. “You can do whatever you want, anything that you want. Why would you want me? I’m nothing special, just another bird trapped in a cage. I don’t want you to have to take on my burdens.” 

Hoseok’s heart clenches as it goes quiet again between them, and Hoseok lets out a long, deep breath. There’s a beat of silence, and then he’s reaching one hand through the bars, taking one of Kihyun’s hands in his, Kihyun looking up at him with timid eyes. 

“You know what you are to me?” Hoseok murmurs, the two of them looking right at each other, and Hoseok gets lost in Kihyun’s eyes again, those tiny, perfect little galaxies, and Hoseok smiles. 

“You’re a miracle,” Hoseok says. “You’re _my_ miracle. I won’t forget how you saved my life, and not just from the sword that cut me down.” 

It seems as if they’re both holding their breath in that long moment of silence, and Hoseok lifts Kihyun’s hand like it’s made of glass. “I’d do anything for you,” Hoseok says. “You’re all that I want, and you’re worth everything to me.” 

Without breaking eye contact, Hoseok lifts Kihyun’s hand to his lips and presses a soft, slow kiss to Kihyun’s knuckles, just one. Kihyun’s eyes go wide at first and his lips part, but then he blushes deep pink as his eyes go half-lidded and flutter, and Hoseok gently releases his hand before he speaks again. 

“You deserve to live the life that you want to live,” Hoseok goes on. “And I want to help you. I’ll gladly carry your burdens. I want to be by your side. Just tell me what I can do, Kihyun. My prince.” 

Kihyun keeps blushing and breaks eye contact, his gaze slipping down to his feet, but he can’t stop smiling now, even as he starts playing with his hands again and thinking hard. Hoseok watches him patiently as he waits for his answer. 

“I’m not sure,” Kihyun finally says, his voice quiet and gentle. “A lot has happened, and it’s a lot to explain. And you can’t do a thing from in here, neither of us can.” 

And then, Kihyun looks back up and into Hoseok’s eyes, determination spreading over his features. Resolve, tenacity, fire. Hoseok loves it, it makes his heart feel full and warm, a small glimpse of the Kihyun whom he had known from their time together back at the tent. The _real_ Kihyun. 

“I’m going to get you out of here, and it's going to be right now,” Kihyun says, and he starts digging around in one of the pockets of his cloak. “It’s why I came rushing here as soon as I overheard that this is where you were being kept.” 

Hoseok watches with curiosity as Kihyun pulls a key out of his pockets, long and thin but clearly very old, a metal skeleton key, and Hoseok grins. “You knew where the key was?” he asks, as Kihyun gets to work unlocking the cell. 

“I know where everything is,” Kihyun replies as the lock finally opens with a loud click. “I know my way around this place better than anyone.” 

Hoseok takes a step back as Kihyun undoes the latch and pulls the door open slowly, the metal frame creaking loudly and kicking up a huge cloud of dust in its wake. “This isn’t our real home, but we’ve been living here for over a year,” Kihyun says. “I spent a lot of time snooping around, poking my nose everywhere. Getting into places where I shouldn’t be.” 

Kihyun looks at Hoseok then and grins, the door now fully open. “I’ve always been a troublemaker, I suppose,” Kihyun says, smirking, his eyes shining. 

Now that the door is open, the both of them just stand there for a moment in silence, neither moving even though there’s no longer a cell door separating them. There’s tension in the air, the good kind, and they’re both a little nervous but in the best possible way, butterflies fluttering in Hoseok’s stomach as they look at each other, finally together again but now with nothing between them. Hoseok looks at Kihyun fondly, smiling with soft eyes, Kihyun looking back at him proudly. 

“You know what?” Hoseok says. “It was how I always thought of you, all this time. When I was alone and thinking about you. A troublemaker.” 

Kihyun smiles. “Same here,” he says, eyes bright in the glow of the single lantern as Hoseok takes a step out of the cell, a step closer to Kihyun. “I thought about you as the troublemaker who was just too damn stubborn to die.” 

As much as Hoseok wants to reach out and to pull Kihyun into his embrace, to touch him and to hold him close, it doesn’t feel like the right time, not here, not now. He takes another step closer to Kihyun, and they look right at each other with intense expressions, as if there’s an electric current going through the both of them and pulling them together, but at the same time, keeping them apart. 

They both know what it means, what their instincts are telling them. They’re not safe here. They’ll have all the time in the world when they escape, but right now, they can’t afford to waste any time when a guard could come back at any moment. 

“Hoseok,” Kihyun murmurs. “I don’t know how to thank you. For what you’ve done for me.” 

“What I’ve done for _you_?” Hoseok says, incredulous. “You’ve done everything for _me_ , Ki.” 

Kihyun smiles softly, and he offers his hand for Hoseok to take in his own. “You’ve given me something precious,” Kihyun says. “My freedom is no longer just for myself, or just to spite my family. You’ve given me something worth fighting for, a reason. It’s you.” 

Hoseok looks into Kihyun’s eyes as they hold hands between them, and he remembers how he had thought along the same lines, that the connection that he felt with Kihyun was never meant to be just a passing affection. It was always something deeper, something meaningful. Hoseok takes in Kihyun’s words, and he grins, suddenly. 

“Are you sure you don’t love me?” Hoseok jokes, smiling bright. “I think you do.” 

Kihyun lets out a scoff and makes a big show of rolling his eyes, but he’s blushing again, and Hoseok counts that as a victory. “Come on,” Kihyun says. “Let’s get out of here, idiot.” 

Kihyun leads Hoseok away by the hand and they start to make their way through the dungeon tunnels in near total darkness, but Kihyun knows his way well, and doesn’t hesitate through the twists and turns as he pulls Hoseok along, and Hoseok trusts him absolutely, follows him carefully as they both stay quiet, moving quickly and silently, because even though Hoseok was the only prisoner, there could always be a guard or anyone else coming down here for any number of reasons. 

They go on like this for some time, Kihyun taking Hoseok through a different entrance than the one that Hoseok came through, and after going through more twisting paths and then carefully up a thick rope ladder, they end up back out in the forest, in a completely different place from where Hoseok remembers coming in. It looks to be a different garden from the one that they had been in together before, smaller and simpler, and Hoseok figures that it must be on the other side of the residence. 

But truthfully, Hoseok really has no idea of the layout of this place, it’s so big and confusing, and he barely remembers how he ended up in the forest and the dungeons in the first place, but Kihyun knows it perfectly, knows _everything_ perfectly, and when Kihyun leads him up onto the wooden porch and through a sliding paper door into the traditional Japanese residence, sure enough, it’s a dark, empty hallway inside with no sign of activity whatsoever, clearly an empty part of the residence that nobody is currently using. 

Hoseok is sure to be extra careful as Kihyun finally lets go of his hand, turning to Hoseok and bringing his own finger up to his lips to remind Hoseok to be quiet, then gesturing for Hoseok to follow him. And now, they’re going slowly, careful not to make the floors creak or for their footsteps to make any noise. Kihyun leads Hoseok down a narrow hallway, then another, then guides him through a few more turns after that, dozens of different hallways, it seems, and as they begin to approach light, rooms that are lit up inside, the occupied part of the residence, Hoseok figures that they must be going to Kihyun’s room. 

It’s early morning now, the sun just beginning to rise outside and light up the interior little by little, and as Hoseok had guessed before, it’s clear that there are plenty of people in this house who had been awake throughout the night. They finally arrive at one room where Kihyun stops them, the room that must be Kihyun’s room, and they both remove their shoes, carefully watching all around them as they do, and taking their shoes into their hands to bring inside with them. 

It’s completely dark as Kihyun quietly and slowly slides the door open and urges Hoseok inside first, all but pushing Hoseok into the darkness before he follows after and slides the door shut behind them, bathing the room in darkness save for the soft glow of the sunrise coming in from the paper doors on the other side opposite the entrance, both of them taking a moment to catch their breath. The room carries the faint aroma of cherry blossoms from the trees outside, along with the light but undeniable scent of soap. The floor feels soft and smooth beneath Hoseok’s bare feet from what must be a silk carpet, and even without light, Hoseok can tell that it’s quite spacious, Hoseok accidentally stepping on what must be Kihyun’s traditional Japanese futon bed on the floor as he stumbles around trying to find Kihyun in the dark. 

Kihyun murmurs something about a lantern while Hoseok tries to find a wall to steady himself against, and Hoseok is nowhere near as good in the dark as Kihyun is, so when Kihyun turns around from lighting his lantern and Hoseok turns around at about the same time, they bump right into each other, their faces very close, atoms apart, and Kihyun’s hands had instinctively grabbed for Hoseok’s shoulders for balance while Hoseok’s had instinctively grabbed for Kihyun’s hips to steady him. 

In the soft golden light of the lantern hanging in the corner of Kihyun’s room, they just stare at each other like that in surprise for a long, long moment, silent and full of something intense and heated between them, that pull again, urging them together and at the same time overwhelming them as they cling to each other, their lips so close that all it would take is a tiny push to close the distance. They keep staring at each other, breathing hard with parted lips, and it feels like something about to burst, the bundling, coiling tension between them, their eyes shining with something bright, and Hoseok can feel Kihyun’s gentle breath on his lips. 

But then, Hoseok just sighs, and he pulls Kihyun into a hug, wrapping his arms tight around Kihyun’s waist as Kihyun wraps his own arms tight around Hoseok’s shoulders. They embrace as closely as they possibly can, both of their eyes slipping closed as they hold each other in silence, Kihyun’s body warm and soft in Hoseok’s arms, Kihyun’s heart pounding steadily against Hoseok’s, both of them momentarily melting into each other in relief. 

It’s a lovely moment, and it feels a little cold in the space around them when they finally pull apart, back to the same position as before, Kihyun’s arms loosely wrapped around Hoseok’s shoulders and Hoseok’s hands slipping back down to Kihyun’s hips. 

“I’m so glad that you’re safe,” Hoseok says. “I mean...I know that we already established that, but...being able to hold you, after all of this time, to actually feel it for myself...I just...” 

Hoseok trails off as he stares into Kihyun’s eyes, Kihyun tilting his head slightly as he waits for Hoseok to finish his thought. Beautiful. “I would do anything to protect you, Kihyun,” Hoseok murmurs. “I owe you my life at least twice over, and I’ll gladly give it to you.” 

He squeezes Kihyun’s hips gently, Kihyun letting out a soft little noise, one that Hoseok has never heard before but something like a moan, as color splashes across his face. He pouts and reaches for Hoseok’s face with one hand and gives Hoseok’s cheek an incredibly gentle, playful slap in protest, just a tap of his palm, really, cute as a button. Hoseok smiles, breathless in Kihyun’s presence as always. 

“Even if you hadn’t saved my life,” Hoseok goes on, “you’re the most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen. If I couldn’t know you as my love, then I’d worship you as my God.” 

Kihyun laughs softly, finally taking a step back, his hands slipping from Hoseok’s shoulders as he turns away and his gaze slips to the floor, flustered and shy as his blush deepens, visible and bright even in the low lighting. “Hoseok...” he murmurs, trailing off into silence as he shakes his head incredulously. 

Hoseok watches him fondly as he walks around to the other side of the room, removing his dark cloak to put in a closet that slides open from another paper door on the side of the room. Kihyun is still wearing the pink yukata from before, and while he moves some things around inside of the closet and preoccupies himself, Hoseok gets a better look around his room. 

As he had suspected in the dark, there’s a large silk carpet covering a large portion of the floor, and a large, comfortable-looking Japanese futon bed in the center of the room covered with several thick blankets. The bed is unmade, making it clear that Kihyun had gotten up in a hurry to get to Hoseok. It also looks like Kihyun has a small washroom off to one side of the room, opposite from the closet and concealed by a half-open sliding paper door, and from here, Hoseok can see a large round bathtub inside, along with a sink and mirror, and what appear to be silk towels and variety of soaps and other bath liquids inside. 

Kihyun, meanwhile, is making space in the closet, which, now that Kihyun has cleared it out, looks quite spacious indeed. “You’re going to have to hide in here most of the time, especially if I’m not here with you,” Kihyun says. “Just in case anybody comes snooping around while I’m gone. But you’ll be safe until we can figure out what to do next.” 

Kihyun sighs, then, turning back to look at Hoseok, half-apologetic and half-relieved. 

“There’s going to be quite the fuss tomorrow when they go down there and see that you’ve escaped,” Kihyun says, a slight smirk to his face. “They’ll think that you really were a spy after all.” 

Kihyun turns back around and moves a few things around in the closet as he speaks, but Hoseok suspects that it’s just so that he has something to do with his hands. “I have some blankets that I can squeeze in here,” Kihyun says, turning back to Hoseok. “It’ll be a tight fit, but you should be alright in there for the time being, and comfortable enough when I’m not around.” 

Hoseok frowns. “I don’t want to sleep in a closet,” he says, pouting in an exaggerated fashion. “I want to sleep with _you_.” And at that, Kihyun gives him a look. “I mean,” Hoseok goes on, “sleep _beside_ you. Just sleeping.” 

Kihyun rolls his eyes again, and Hoseok can’t resist teasing him. “For the record,” Hoseok says, “there _is_ a tight fight that I’m interested in, and it’s not your closet...” 

Kihyun scurries over immediately and slaps his hand over Hoseok’s mouth, barely containing his own laughter, grinning wide and his eyes sparkling with mirth, his cheeks flushed. “You stop that,” Kihyun murmurs, giggling for a few moments before trailing off into silence and looking into Hoseok’s eyes. And again, Hoseok is lost in them for a moment, in how they shine in the glow of the lantern, filled with unfathomable depth and beauty. Hoseok wonders if looking at Kihyun will ever feel plain and normal, or if it’ll always be like this, like looking right into the center of a star. Kihyun lets out a soft sigh, looking at Hoseok with fondness. 

“You’ll sleep where it’s safe,” Kihyun whispers. “We can’t risk someone barging in and seeing you.” 

Hoseok sighs sadly, makes a big show of rolling his eyes just as Kihyun had before, and Kihyun huffs and Hoseok laughs, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he grins behind Kihyun’s hand, until Kihyun finally lets go and again brings a finger to his lips to remind Hoseok to stay quiet. 

They look at each other again in silence, unsure what to do now, and Hoseok has the wild urge to tackle Kihyun down onto the futon, to open up Kihyun’s yukata, and to kiss Kihyun’s belly, but before he can do anything, Kihyun is suddenly very focused, staring at him, and Hoseok suddenly feels a little self-conscious, frozen in place by Kihyun’s stare. 

“What is it?” Hoseok mouths silently, watching Kihyun’s eyes traveling over his face, searching for something. 

And then, Kihyun takes a step closer to him, so close, and Kihyun lifts a hand to Hoseok’s cheek, places it there for just a moment before he strokes Hoseok’s skin, and Hoseok’s heart stops in his chest, his eyes going wide and his lips parting instinctively, his face flushing and growing warm as Kihyun looks very closely into Hoseok’s eyes, time seeming to stop and the world around them slowing to a halt as Kihyun leans in close to Hoseok’s face. 

But then, the moment ends quickly. Kihyun’s hand slips down from Hoseok’s face and Kihyun’s gaze with it. He looks down at his own fingertips for a long moment, then frowns, and shows them to Hoseok. They’re covered in a visible layer of dirt and dust. 

Ah, yes. Hoseok is filthy, and not in the fun way. That’s what happens when you’ve been awake for so long, traveled across the country, and spent hours in an underground prison literally wallowing on the ground. 

Kihyun giggles and uses the same hand to gesture over to the washroom, and Hoseok takes the hint, smiling apologetically. The truth is, he’d love a bath. He feels pretty gross, now that he thinks about it, and a bath sounds wonderful. 

Despite the flirting and the insinuation that they might bathe together back at the medical tent, Kihyun is quite shy now that it’s actually a possibility, and after showing Hoseok to the little connecting washroom on the side through the sliding paper door, he slides the door shut after Hoseok goes in to give Hoseok privacy. 

Still, it’s very nice, much more luxurious than any washroom that Hoseok has ever seen or been in, and Hoseok is actually glad for the moment to himself, to process everything, and now that he gets a look at himself in the mirror, he can see that he’s a mess, certainly not the kind of handsome charmer that he wants to be to impress Kihyun. His hair is caked in dirt and sticking up all over the place, and he’s got dirt all over his face and down his neck and chest. He’s exceedingly pale, too, even more so than normal, and he’s got dark circles under his eyes. His gaze then slips down to his chest, exposed from the loose top of his yukata as always, and he looks at his scar, and he frowns. 

It’s just another thing so starkly in contrast to Kihyun, just like all of Hoseok is. Hoseok is dirty and broken, Kihyun is beautiful and perfect. Hoseok sighs, thinking about the burden that he’s causing Kihyun, the danger, and he feels the urge to run, to leave Kihyun behind to be safe without him here at all. But then again, he thinks that he’d probably break Kihyun’s heart if he did that now, and from what Kihyun had told him, he can’t be so sure that Kihyun really _is_ safe here, and for that reason alone, he needs to stay, to protect Kihyun and to look after him. 

And so, Hoseok stops that line of thought and turns his attention to the task at hand, lets the hot bathwater run to fill up the tub for a few moments, dipping his hands past the surface and wincing a little as he can already see the dirt rinsing off of his hands and diluting into the water. He thinks he’ll probably need a second bath after he drains the first, just to make sure that everything’s truly clean, because he’s pretty sure that the first bath is just going to be him soaking in wet dirt. 

The tub fills past his wrists, and he stares into the water for a moment before withdrawing his hands, then sets about undressing, doing his best to put his clothing into a neat pile in the corner to wash later. The room quickly fills with steam and the fragrance of fancy, expensive soap, and as he finally gets naked and sinks down into the large bathtub, he moans as the hot water absorbs into his skin, because it feels truly, truly amazing. “Heavenly” cannot even begin to describe it. 

For the next hour or so, Hoseok treats himself to not one, but two long, hot baths, just as he had predicted. He soaks for a long time in the hot water, then scrubs his hair with his hands and scrubs his entire body with a rough sponge full of soap, scrubs so hard that it’s almost painful, just to make sure that he gets completely clean for Kihyun. And by the time that he’s done, his skin is flushed red, but he smells great, and he feels great, clean and sleepy and refreshed, like he’s entirely scrubbed away his old life, like he’s scrubbed away everything terrible that had happened, and he’s a little dizzy from the steam as he drains the bathtub for a second time and then carefully stands up, proceeding to dry off with one of Kihyun’s soft, silk towels. 

Hoseok gets a glance at himself in the mirror, then, and is quite satisfied to see that now that he’s had two very long baths, he’s looking much more up to his usual level of handsomeness, one which he’s certain will have quite the effect on Kihyun, especially now that Hoseok can stand up and walk around and move normally, can show off the full glory of his well-built warrior’s body. His skin is still damp and warm from the hot water, but it looks incredibly soft and smooth over his sculpted muscles, and his wet hair is hanging down over his forehead and dripping into his eyes. 

He pushes it back off of his forehead, and grins to himself, because he looks even _better_ now, and at that moment, he decides to take full advantage of this situation, to fully seize the opportunity to tease Kihyun. And so, rather than covering himself with the towel, he simply drops it to the floor and slides the door open, completely naked, and looking absolutely incredible. 

As he steps out into Kihyun’s room, he sees that Kihyun has extinguished the lantern, the room now lit by the natural light of the sunrise outside. He sees that Kihyun has changed into a clean yukata, this one a soft, pale yellow without embellishment, and is standing by the sliding paper door out to the garden, opposite the door that they came through, the door slid slightly open so that Kihyun can stare off outside, deep in thought, and when he hears Hoseok and turns to look at him, Hoseok watches with great delight as Kihyun’s eyes go wide and his face goes red, his gaze momentarily raking over Hoseok’s fully naked body before Kihyun immediately slides the paper door shut and rushes for the closet, grabbing for clothes as Hoseok laughs quietly, leaning up against the doorframe to the washroom in all of his manly grandeur. 

Hoseok considers making a joke about how Kihyun had seen him naked already, plenty of times, but he knows that it’s not necessary. He knows that now, that here, it’s all different. It’s not like they’re starting over, not exactly, but more like...they’re going down a new path together, and they’re both feeling quite a bit more nervous than before. 

Hoseok keeps chuckling quietly as Kihyun comes towards him and thrusts a beautiful yukata into his arms, Kihyun’s eyes squeezed shut and his cheeks still red and burning. The yukata is big, much too big to be Kihyun’s by the looks of it, so it must be a spare meant for guests. It’s a pretty, deep blue color, glossy and shimmering like the surface of the ocean hit by sunlight. Hoseok takes it into his hands, admires the fabric and lets it slip through his fingers, his laughter fading off into fascination and a soft smile as Kihyun keeps his eyes shut, playing with his hands and waiting patiently for Hoseok to put it on, at least enough to cover his private areas. 

The yukata is breathtaking. It’s gorgeous and high-quality, made of expensive, luxury silk, nothing like Hoseok has ever worn before in his life. It’s not just something meant to cover the body, it’s a work of art. As Hoseok slips it on, he’s exceedingly careful, because it feels like it’s made of water, it’s so smooth and soft on his skin and light as air flowing down over his body. 

Kihyun carefully opens his eyes after a few moments of silence, just in time to witness as Hoseok tries to tie the yukata closed, Hoseok struggling, unable to really manage it, not when his hands are shaking slightly because he’s so touched, so thrilled to be here and to be wearing something like this, picked specially by Kihyun himself. Kihyun seems to read Hoseok’s mind as he watches him fumble with the fabric, and Kihyun sighs fondly, rolling his eyes yet again before moving to help him, his scoff turning into a smile as he adjusts the fabric with skilled hands, fitting it perfectly to Hoseok’s body. 

Kihyun leaves the top of the yukata loose to expose some of Hoseok’s chest, just like Hoseok likes it, and Kihyun pauses then, the air going still and silent around them. Kihyun’s eyes are shining, his hands hesitating on the top folds of Hoseok’s yukata, and after a beat of silence, he slips one hand inside and rests his palm on Hoseok’s chest, right over Hoseok’s scar, Hoseok sucking in a breath in surprise. 

Kihyun’s hand is cool to the touch this time, delicate on Hoseok’s warm skin as he just rests it there without a word, and he looks up at Hoseok then, and Hoseok is holding his breath, his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed, his heart pounding, and they don’t say anything, but they look deep into each other’s eyes and Hoseok knows that they’re both thinking about the same thing. 

They’re both thinking about being back at the medical tent, about how this is strangely reminiscent of their time together there, with Kihyun’s hand on his scar, with Kihyun’s hands all over him, Kihyun’s healing touch and Hoseok’s broken body, and about how they’re both here together now. And it’s all different, everything’s changed, but it’s the same as it was between them, really. They’re here together, and Kihyun looks at Hoseok with so much affection in his eyes, with his hand on Hoseok’s chest right over his beating heart, that Hoseok knows that it doesn’t matter that they’re so different and that they come from such different worlds. They share what’s most important. They share the same soul. 

A few more moments pass, and they part then, shyly, Kihyun’s hand slipping out of Hoseok’s yukata as he looks down at the ground with a soft smile on his face. Kihyun lets out a little cough and takes a step back, nodding his head in the direction of the closet to show Hoseok where he’ll be sleeping. 

While Hoseok was in the bath, Kihyun had filled the closet with a large pile of thick blankets to make it as comfortable as possible, cleared it out as much as he could for Hoseok to be able to lie down and rest. The paper door slides closed completely even with Hoseok inside, and so Hoseok will be hidden if anyone comes poking around while Kihyun is away. It’s not ideal, of course, but it’s not all bad. He’ll still be able to come out to eat and to rest and to bathe when Kihyun is around, and Hoseok can understand Kihyun being overly cautious. 

Hoseok is able to leave it open while inside, too, which he’ll do while Kihyun is here and when they’re sleeping, and Kihyun has even pulled his own futon away from the center of the room and closer to the closet so that they’ll be sleeping only inches apart. And as they both prepare for sleep (despite the fact that it’s technically morning, they’re both obviously quite exhausted and in need of rest), they lie down and pull the covers over their bodies, then turn to face each other, and suddenly, it’s like they’re sleeping beside each other, in one bed instead of two. 

It goes very quiet, then, even with the sun starting to come up and shining through the paper doors, and Hoseok is suddenly exhausted, suddenly feeling the full weight of all of the sleep that he’s missed, of just how much he’s put his body through in such a short time. He looks at Kihyun through half-lidded eyes, and he can see that Kihyun is feeling the same way, both of them letting out little sighs as they get comfortable in their blankets, looking at each other softly, and Hoseok smiles at Kihyun gently as if to say _It’s alright, we can rest now._

A long, long rest. Like the one that Hoseok had thought about in his cell, the rest he would take when things were finally all alright. Maybe it won’t be tonight, but Hoseok hopes that for the two of them, hopes that the two of them can truly rest, can truly be safe together someday. 

They keep looking at each other as they drift off like that, relaxed and happy, everything peaceful, and for the first time in a long time, Hoseok feels positive, feels optimistic, feels like he can finally breathe, like he can finally sleep. And what better, what more fitting, than being able to breathe and to sleep right here, right beside Kihyun. 

And naturally, the last thing that Hoseok sees before falling asleep is Kihyun’s sleeping face. Safe, happy, and within Hoseok’s reach at last. Hoseok is right where he wants to be now, right where he’s wanted to be for so many weeks. 

He’s right by Kihyun’s side, and it’s where he’ll always be from now on.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are love ❤️


End file.
